


Somewhat of Import

by GirlDressedInBlack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: isn't now, oh well, started as crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-28 15:53:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 45,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7647286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlDressedInBlack/pseuds/GirlDressedInBlack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry Potter is seven years old he finds an odd book in the library and soon after meets everyone's favourite clueless angel. From then on his life changes as he moves in with Jody, Claire and Alex and learns more about friendship, family and magic. Especially magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter was tired.

Outrunning Dudley and his crew was fast becoming more tiring than just climbing up into a tree or dealing with the older Dursleys complaints and restrictions (not that there was much more they could do than withhold a meal) when he just left school.

So he did.

He had been getting to know the escape routes quite well and it's not like he would really be losing out on an education when others in his class were still stuck on basic addition.

At age seven Harry James Potter was a mathematical prodigy (not that he let the teachers know that). Not only could he add numbers together he could subtract them too- he even knew half of the dreaded multiplication tables!

With a few turns, a crawl under an old fence and a climb through someone's garden Harry had escaped.

Relieved he lay on the somewhat damp grass, not really caring that his shirt was fast becoming bedewed. It was only Dudley's old clothes anyway, they were both too big for him and quite worn.

Harry's seven year old brain quickly grew tired of this though and so he decided to ensconce himself in the library again and make a crack at his seven times tables- they were the least fun.

Sometimes he wondered if he should be worried about the fact that none of the librarians noticed him out of school.

Happily Harry made his way to his most frequented bookshelf. He was about to pluck the thin book on maths from its place when just between 'Easy ABCs' and 'How To Count To Three'- the books were _very_ poorly alphabetised here- he saw a thick, bedraggled looking tome which he was certain he has never seen in his previous forays into the world of children's educational literature.

Like any curious child he pulled it out and went to sit down in the cosiest chair in the building between the shelves on something called 'Human biology' and 'Autobiographies By People No One Cares About'. He wasn't sure why no one ever went to this section of the library but he didn't really care at that moment with a new mystery in his hands.

And so he did not notice the faint title of 'Angel Summoning for Beginners' before it was too late.

"Why did you summon me, small human?" The gruff voice interrupts his reading and Harry drops the book in shock.

In front of him stands a man in a long, light brown coat.

Harry James Potter does the only thing a child without real parental figures would think to do when confronted by an odd man with a strange accent.

"I'm Harry- who are you?" He stands but the man still seems to tower above him.

The man blinks, eyebrows drawing down over his startlingly blue eyes.

"What do you mean you don't know me? Surely if you summoned me you must-" The man catches sight of his surroundings, "-wait. How did you summon me?" Harry stares up at him in confusion.

"What's 'summoning'?" The boy asks, knowing it must be a verb because he wasn't too bad at English either. The man returns the stare,

"You mean to say that you _don't_ know who I am, how you summoned me here or that you summoned me here?" Harry nods.

"I don't know what summoning is but I don't know you." The man decides to introduce himself to the odd child.

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord." His eyes seem to glow but this doesn't put the seven year old off.

"Oh, okay. Why are you here? Do you want to read the books too?" Castiel the angel looks around briefly.

"None of these books are of import." If Harry could understand what the strange man was saying he would probably be mildly offended, "I need to get back to the Winchesters." The man focuses for a second then looks around with an expression of concern and puzzlement.

"I thought you were leaving, Castiel?" Harry watches the angel's eyes darken with worry.

"I can't seem to leave. If I don't get back to them soon they might do something dangerous." The boy nods eagerly, also worried for the friends of his new friend. The angel fixes his gaze on Harry.

"You summoned me here so maybe you are the key to letting me get back to them." Harry- who still doesn't know what summoning is- frowns.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Maybe it's in the book? If you can go can I go with you?" Castiel looks at the young boy confusedly, seeming to look through him.

"Why do you want to go with me?" Harry shuffles a little, feeling quite silly.

"Well the Dursleys don't like me and I don't like cleaning their house." The angel acquiesces.

"Okay. You are important to the Wizarding World though so I'll have to return you at key points of time so things aren't messed up too much." Harry doesn't know what the Wizarding World is or why he would be important to it but he _really, really_ doesn't care when he has a ticket away from the Dursleys.

The angel and the boy find no reason for this complication in the book so- when Castiel has returned the maths book and (at Harry's request) properly organised the library (with a mere motion no less)- they try to leave again.

Castiel lays his hand on the boy's shoulder and they are gone.

"Must have been a time delay or something." The gruff angel removes his hand from the boy's shoulder. Harry does not notice, too busy taking in the sight of the Bunker in its full, slightly dusty, glory.

"What the hell Cas? First you just disappear on us then you reappear with a kid? What the hell are you thinking?" Castiel looks concernedly at the man.

"The child managed to summon me without the proper rituals and he didn't want to stay there so I brought him back with me. I'll have to return him every now and then." Harry stares at the tall man who just stares at the angel in shock.

"Cas- he's a kid- he needs his family."

"Dean-" The tall man interrupts him again.

"Cas, you've got to return him before they file a report or something!" The angel opens his mouth to respond but Harry speaks instead.

"The Dursleys won't mind. They'll just have to do the cleaning and cooking themselves. They didn't like me anyway." Dean stares in disbelief and Harry just stares back, unconcerned.

At this moment an even taller man walks into the room, reverses a few steps then points at Harry.

"So why's there a kid in here?" The slightly less tall man throws his hands in the air,

"I'm going to get beer, you're going to deal with those two." As he leaves the taller one sits in one of the chairs surrounding a table with countries on it. He gestures to the seat in front of him and smiles awkwardly.

"Um, have a seat." Harry sits down in it and the giant bends down closer to his level, elbows perched on his knees and hands clasped loosely in front of him.

"So what's your name?" Harry dutifully recites his name and the man nods, holding out his hand.

"Nice to meet you Harry- I'm Sam Winchester. What are you doing here, you don't sound American?" The boy shakes his head.

"I'm from England. I read a book then Castiel appeared and I didn't want to stay with the Dursleys so I came here with him." Sam nods.

"So why don't you want to stay with them? Are they your family?" Harry nods.

"Aunt Petunia is my aunt so I guess so. My mum and dad died in a car accident when I was little because my dad was drunk- it's how I got this scar-" He lifts his hair and Sam nods patiently yet worriedly, "They didn't like me and I had to clean their house and garden and do some cooking." The giant sees the sincerity in the boy's words and nods again.

"Well I don't think we should send you back then but we know someone who is looking after other lost people so you could stay with her if she says yes." Dean walks in, passing a beer to Sam and taking another swig of his own.

"So what's happening?"

"We are thinking of taking Harry to Jody's because we can't look after him and I don't even know how we would get him back to his family if they were fit to look after him." Dean nods slightly,

"Fair enough- any hunts around?" Sam shakes his head, gesturing to nothing in particular.

"Nope, it's been too quiet lately." Dean grins

"Hey, Cas, think we could just drop Harry around now?" Almost instantly the giant stands up again.

"We aren't waking Jody up at two in the morning unless it's an emergency." The slightly shorter man holds his hands up.

"Okay, okay- Samantha- don't get your knickers in a twist. Well Harry- looks like we can take you over to Jody's tomorrow so pick a room for the night." The two men start bickering between themselves so it is up to Cas to show the young boy around the Bunker.

So Harry spends his first night away from the Dursleys in- in his seven year old opinion- the coolest place ever.

The next day Harry has cold pizza for breakfast and decides that it's the best thing ever.

"So, you ready to go?" The boy nods and stands between the brothers. Cas lays a hand on each brother's shoulder and a foot on Harry's and they are standing in a very ordinary looking living room.

Castiel stands on two feet again.

"So you're Harry- nice to meet you kid. I'm Jody." Harry nods as the friendly looking woman shakes his hand "I hear you're going to be living with me from now on." Again, Harry nods.

"First things first- breakfast. You boys want to join us?" She looks at the rest of them and raises her eyebrows in question.

And Harry has his second breakfast of the day with two girls who don't seem to realise he's there, the two brothers, a friendly sheriff and an angel of the Lord.

"So Harry, want to come out and get some clothes later? You'll need some new things if you're going to school."

Yeah, Harry thinks he's going to like America.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry's first meeting with supernatural creatures comes when he's eight in the form of a rogue werewolf trying to cover its tracks.

For weeks Claire had been teaching him about various supernatural creatures, how to spot them and how to kill them. She seems to see their sessions as some kind of bonding experience. Jody seems to see them that way too until she finds out that she had been taking him on stakeouts of particular areas she thought were creature infested.

Needless to say they haven't been happening since then.

Unfortunately for once Claire had been on to something and not crazy- as Alex kept claiming.

The next evening when Claire had stomped off to her room to go and research more about the supernatural and Alex had been dragged back home from the bar they had a rather unwanted visitor.

Through the window.

Full of sharp teeth and claws.

Eats hearts.

Sound familiar?

Jody luckily still has her gun on her but the shots didn't seem to do much except slow it down and make it angrier. Seconds later Claire is bursting from her room with a machete and an angry scowl.

Jody is half impressed, half annoyed and completely worried for her kids' lives.

Harry watches from behind the sofa as Claire swings for its neck only for it to duck and knock her into the wall. She grunts loudly as she hits the wall, arm hanging limply by her side and glaring up at the werewolf as it approaches.

"Claire!" The creature focuses on the two humans making noise, the bigger one first as the bigger threat.

It leaps for Jody and explodes.

For a second no one speaks.

"What the hell was that! Werewolf don't just explode!" Claire is the first to speak, shaking somewhat as she pushes herself against the wall to stand, machete dropped by her feet. Harry steps out from behind the couch, staring at the gore in horror. Jody runs to Claire first, helping her up.

"I don't know but we're lucky it did- go and get yourself cleaned up a bit before we take you to the hospital. Usual cover story." The girl nods, leaving quickly to shower.

Jody comes to stand in front of Harry. She kneels down despite the mess and places a hand on either of his shoulders.

"You aren't hurt?" He nods frightened, "Are you sure?" Harry looks up, face eerily pale.

"I think I killed it." Jody frowns, leading him to the kitchen to clean him up.

"What do you mean? It just exploded- I've seen weirder." She jokes as she cleans the blood off of them both, "It's gonna be hell to get that out of the carpets though." Her attempt at humour doesn't seem to work at calming him down. She looks him in the eyes and sighs.

"Harry, there are awful things out there- you've seen that tonight- but they aren't your fault. Even if you had made it explode it's easier to deal with a load of mess and broken bones than resurrecting people. You guys are worth more than monsters." Harry nods and hugs Jody.

"Now you'll need to change clothes-" She ruffles his hair affectionately, "Why don't you go and change while I get everything ready to take Claire to the hospital?" The boy nods and runs off to his room to do as told.

When Jody sets foot into the living room she just sighs.

"This is going to be a long night."

The room is spotless.

The three meet in the car, Alex having been warned against going out. Claire lets her arm rest limply in her lap as Jody drives them onwards.

It doesn't take long to get everything seen to. While Claire is busy having her cast put on Jody pulls Harry outside.

"We won't be long." The doctor raises his eyebrows and Claire just nods.

"So, why do you think you killed the monster?" Harry frowns worriedly, trying to remember and wondering if Jody might get upset.

"When it jumped at you I was really scared and Claire was already hurt so I didn't know what to do but I really, _really_ didn't want it to hurt you and then it, it exploded!" Jody hugs him to her, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Shh, shh- it's okay. Is that how it worked when the room was all clean again and the window was fixed?" The small boy nods, sniffling.

"That's okay- we'll ask Claire or the boys if they know what's happening. It doesn't seem to be doing any harm yet though but we'll keep an eye on it, okay?" Harry nods again and Jody frowns, trying to think of anything that she might have encountered that would have this kind of effect.

As soon as Harry has calmed down enough they go back inside to wait for Claire again. The next few days pass as normal with school and homework and no monsters.

Then they get an answer.

As it turns out Harry is a wizard- and not the kind that usually requires being hunted down.

Apparently there is a whole secret society of wizards hidden in various places around the world who- instead of borrowing their power from demons- have a natural innate power which isn't predisposed one way or another.

Sam mentions that they only know of one other person like that so they expected is wasn't very common.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry's first meeting with another of his kind comes when he's nine in the form of a ginger Scottish woman.

Harry had been given Jody's permission to go and visit the library again- he still retained a fondness for the place, it wasn't very far from their house and only an idiot would hurt the sheriff's adopted kids in a town where everyone knew everyone.

On the way there he had been stopped by a ginger woman.

"Hello there dearie." Harry had been successfully taught not to talk to strangers by this point but the woman didn't seem to have any food, a van, was dressed very respectably and for some reason he just liked her. She smiled at him brightly with friendly eyes.

"I see you have some magical powers, laddie." Now Harry had been suspicious, Aunt Jody had told him not to tell other people about his powers because they wouldn't believe him and he hadn't told a single person. How would this random woman know then?

"What do you mean?" Harry had stared up at her curiously only for the woman to laugh, waving her hand.

"You cannae lie to me dearie- I can practically see magic and I _know_ you have been acquainted with your own for a little while now." She crouched down to his level, "After all- I'm a witch too." Harry had looked at her for several more seconds before deciding to believe her.

"Okay. Would you like to come to the library with me? I'm going there until dinner- Aunty Jody wants me home by then." The redhead had smiled that same, shining smile.

"What's your name, lad?" Harry smiled too.

"My name is Harry- what's yours?"

"I'm Rowena. Do you like learning things my boy?" The boy nodded happily.

"Yes- I like learning lots of things!" Rowena grins excitedly.

"Well- what a coincidence! I would love to teach such a talented young wizard as yourself!" Harry just stared at her as if she was a unicorn or some kind of non-violent supernatural creature- not that there seemed to be many of them.

"Really?" She nods, still smiling widely.

"Really." Then she deflates a little, frowning and sighing melodramatically, "Oh, I forgot- you're going to the library, aren't you my boy… It's a shame-"

"I don't mind- I go to the library lots anyway! Please can you teach me about magic?!" The witch sighs sadly.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to teach you much in such a short space of time- and your Aunty might not approve. Most people don't like me, even other witches." Harry frowns disappointedly.

"Why don't people like you? I like you. You can meet my Aunt Jody too- she likes everyone! I can have lessons like in school!" The woman shakes her head, breaths shaky.

"I'm sorry my wee boy. It's just that- I was cursed by a very evil witch so that nobody who doesn't have magic can like me and most that do have magic are not very nice people my boy." By the end Rowena's voice is cracking into little sobs. The woman's eyes water and Harry sniffles sadly.

"But that's so mean- I'll come every evening if I can! I'll tell my Aunty Jody I'm going to the library and really I'll come to the tree over there so you can teach me magic!" The witch smiles gratefully, wiping away a stray tear and sweeping the boy up into a hug.

"Oh, Harry dearie- you are the most lovely lad I've ever met!" Harry, glad to be the ginger witch's friend and unable to see her face due to the hug, misses the smirk that spreads across her face.

So every day for a week Harry goes and visits his friend who shows up each time in a different- but equally beautiful- dress and teaches him all about sensing magic and how to manipulate it. Apparently she'll teach him the spells when he's older.

When a week has passed Jody smiles at the boy over the table as they attempt to eat as a family.

"You seem happy lately- good book series?" Harry nods happily, missing the last bit of the sentence.

"What's it about?" The boy's mind catches up with him and he says the first thing that comes to his mind.

"It's about witches and magic." Claire smiles, eyes wild as she ruffles his hair.

"Trying to get ahead so we can send all those monsters to hell." Harry nods, glad someone else provided the cover story.

"Yeah, it's really helpful actually!" Jody laughs fondly.

"Hey, not under my roof- we don't want you bringing any more of those things through the door even if you can get rid of them." Claire rolls her eyes and Alex continues checking her phone under the table.

So life continues on as normal for their ragtag family.

After several weeks Rowena is beginning to seem a little restless.

"Hello dearie- I have something new to teach you today!" She smiles widely, delicately sitting herself down on the bench behind the tree.

Harry is quite excited- they've been studying little things forever and he can do lots of things now including making objects float or writing by doing that and he's not doing so badly at learning the spells Rowena has set him to practise- even though she won't let him use them yet. He even knows where you can find most of the things you need to make a spell bag and the proper procedures to follow when doing it.

"Today I'm going to teach you projection." The boy smiles, looking up at her.

"What's that?" The witch grins, leaning down a little.

"It's when you can talk to others without words just by putting the words in their heads- when you get really good you can even appear in people's dreams or vision. That's how I'll be teaching you from now on." Harry gets more and more excited until she gets to the last sentence. His face drops in disappointment.

"Oh, don't worry lad! Auntie Rowena isn't going to run off on you now- I've just got to deal with something that's popped up and I don't know when I can get back. This way you'll get to finish your training and I'll get to find out some new things that I might be able to teach you- win-win my boy. Win. Win." The ginger witch pats his head and he nods sadly.

"Oh, come on now- don't be sad! It'll mean you really have time to go to the library too _and_ you'll see me every day." Harry nods again, "Now- let's get started."

And so- without anyone knowing any better- Rowena Macleod successfully gains an apprentice and member for her own little coven right under the noses of the people hunting her.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry's tenth year isn't too eventful as Harry learns more and more from his Auntie Rowena and keeps up with his studies. Aunty Jody becomes mom and possibly the last of his baby teeth falls out. Claire mellows out a little more and Alex uses her phone slightly less. All in all- a pretty good year.

Harry's introduction to the magical world comes when on his eleventh birthday when Castiel appears in their house, hunters in tow.

"Castiel! Uncle Dean, Uncle Sam!" The quite-a-bit-taller boy attempts to hug them all at the same time.

"Hey, Happy Birthday champ!" Dean pats the kid on the back, Sam mirroring him on the other side.

"Happy Birthday kid! Killed any monsters lately?" Jody cuffs him over the head and Castiel smiles just a little.

"Happy Birthday Harry- it's good to see you again." Harry smiles at the angel.

"You too Castiel." He releases the men who laugh good naturedly.

"Ready to go kid?" Harry nods, "Got your list of books and other boring crap?" Aunty Jody cuffs Dean around the head this time but Harry just grins excitedly.

"Yeah, I've got the list of all that 'boring crap'." Jody raises her eyebrows,

"Harry, today may be your birthday but tomorrow isn't and I'm not impressed by your choice of language young man." She smiles hugging him close, "You be careful today. You boys better keep an eye out for each other and come back for cake you hear me." Harry hugs her back.

"I'll keep an eye on them mom- I promise." Dean claps him on the back.

"We'll keep him safe Jody." Jody smiles, giving each of them a pat on the shoulder.

"Remember to pick me up some European warding sigils- never know when you'll need them." Cas nods,

"I'll keep an eye out for them." Jody rolls her eyes although she is slightly pleased that Claire hasn't asked for some kind of weapon again.

"And if you can find anything that keeps away vampires…" Sam nods as Alex glances up at them briefly.

"Yeah, we'll look." Claire knocks her fist gently into the kid's shoulder.

"Don't get yourself killed- you're my future hunting partner remember?" Harry smiles as she steps back and Alex gives him a flicker of a smile.

"Have a good day kid."

Then the three of them are standing in the middle of London. Cas instantly starts directing their day.

"So you need to go in there, show your scar to some guy wearing a turban and then we have to get your supplies and you have to be in the clothes shop at the same time as a blonde child." Harry nods, already well prepared for this. Quickly he ducks inside the run down looking pub, Cas following after tapping Sam and Dean's heads. It takes him merely a second to manifest a field of nonchalance around himself and so he easily makes it to the weird looking guy.

"I'm Harry Potter." He flips his fringe up and jogs back towards Sam and Dean who stand well above the crowd, leaving Mr. Garlic behind. The four of them then leave through the back opening courtesy of Castiel and his angel power- apparently even magical walls can't stand up to a good smiting.

It takes little time for them to retrieve everything once they have the appropriate money- again courtesy of Cas and his angel power. It's not like it wasn't Harry's to spend anyway.

The blonde- apparently Draco Malfoy- isn't too bad. Quite obnoxious and obsessed with his family history but Harry probably won't have to deal with him much.

To Harry the best part- well second best, his favourite part was when all four of them had taken a trip into Knockturn Alley and picked up things for Claire, Alex and their own hunting- was when he got his wand.

The shop had been filled with boxes piled up to the ceiling, nothing but them in fact, excepting a single spindly chair which Sam and Dean fought over. Then the shop keeper had scared the hell out of them by creeping out of nowhere. He didn't particularly like being measured up but it was soon over compared to the actual choosing of the wand- that had taken hours.

The strange man had passed him wand after wand and the pile had grown higher and higher until finally- in a triumphant stream of sparks- the wand chose him.

"Curious… curious…" Castiel had tilted his head to the side and asked the grinning shopkeeper what was curious.

"I remember every single wand I have made, angel," Ollivander flicks his wrist and the knives in Sam and Dean's hands clatter to the floor. He continues on as if uninterrupted, "Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar." Sam and Dean's guns drop to the floor this time. Castiel peers at his scar intently and looks ready to say something when the shopkeeper keeps talking.

"Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter… After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things- terrible, yes, but great." The shopkeeper continues on in a conversational tone, "At first I had planned to place that feather inside holly wood but it didn't seem quite right. The wand chooses the wizard after all." Harry looks down at the length of black walnut in his hand uncertainly as Sam and Dean carefully pick up their weapons.

"What are you?" The shopkeeper smiles.

"I am nothing but a wizard with an expertise in wandcraft." Dean doesn't take his eyes off the man.

"Cas?" The angel nods.

"He's telling the truth Dean." Until they leave the shop neither hunter removes their gaze from the decrepit shopkeeper.

"I don't like him." Dean says around a mouthful of ice cream once they are all safely ensconced in the ice cream shop, Dean having ordered a bowl of everything including all the toppings. Sam looks on in disgust. The angel nods seriously.

"Yes. The way his measuring tapes moved was quite intimidating." Sam still says nothing, merely patting Cas on the back.

When they have all finished- yes, even Dean- they troop outside to find somewhere quiet to disappear from.

"Weren't we going to-" The angel begins only to be cut off by Sam.

"Yes- we're about to." He turns to Harry and smiles, "We _were_ going to get you a broomstick but then Dean pointed out that that you'd probably get shot by amateur hunters who don't know what witches are yet. So instead we decided we'll get you a pet." Harry's eyes light up in excitement as Dean searches around for the shop over people's heads.

Harry really hoped he could be tall one day.

"Over there. Let's go get you an albino crocodile-unicorn, kid." Cas stares after Dean for a moment as he heads for the shop. He frowns.

"But Dean I don't think-" The shop swallows them both. Sam gestures to it wincing slightly.

"Think we should follow them so Cas doesn't buy an army of enchanted bees?" Yes. Harry does- so they do.

As soon as he goes inside he is greeted by numerous birds, cats, snakes and what he thinks might be a dog all sat in rows upon rows of cages.

"So- take your pick. I mean I don't _advise_ getting a giant spider because Claire would probably kill it but if the shop has it and that's what you want…" Sam trails off noticing that Harry is no longer listening, instead focused intently on a snowy white owl which stares back at him with glowing eyes in the gloom of the shop.

He steps closer and the bird seems to nod, chirruping slightly. Harry walks up to the front of the cage and reads the small placard in front of it.

'Snowy Owl

Female'

Well that's incredibly helpful.

The owl stares into his eyes.

Minutes later Harry leaves the shop with a huge cage containing a snowy owl currently trying to sleep upon it's realisation that it's the middle of the day. Dean seems put out that he didn't buy one of the more exotic creatures like the talking rainbow tiger with a horn which kept babbling about 'The Chosen One'.

"What're you gonna call her?" Sam asks.

Harry thinks for a moment, looking at the owl.

"I think I'll call her Hedwig." Sam smiles.

"After the saint?" The boy nods with a wry smile.

"I thought it was fitting. After all she'll be helping us out a lot if I'm going to be in Hogwarts for any amount of time." Sam ruffles his hair.

"You'll be fine." Harry laughs.

"I know- it's you guys I'm worried about- think they'll let me have a few bodyguards?" They keep walking and Dean smiles.

"Cas'll have us there the moment you need us- won't you Cas?" The angel nods frowning slightly.

"Of course. Your years at Hogwarts aren't going to be easy Harry," The boy nods, eyes steeled at he remembers Cas' recount of his destiny.

"Then I'll just have to screw fate won't I?" Dean claps him on the back with a laugh.

"That's the Winchester spirit!" Finally they find a quiet spot and in less than a second are back in America. Hedwig hoots indignantly- disturbed by the change of time zone- and glares at Cas.

"I'm sorry. I doubt you will have to experience that for a while now." The owl does not respond, turning it's back on the angel. Jody comes around the corner at this point.

"Oh- you're back… And you have an owl?" Hedwig stares at her and Jody gets the impression that if the owl could speak it would currently be not speaking and raising an eyebrow at her sassily.

"You might want to let her out to hunt." Harry opens the window and unlatches the cage. Hedwig flaps up onto the windowsill, giving the boy's fingers a friendly nip as she leaves. Jody smile is a little strained.

"I hope she's house trained." She swears she hears an irritable hoot from above their house.

"Anyway- are you boys staying for cake?" Dean grins.

"I think we can manage that."

Harry sits to the table as the seven of them eat smiling.

Yes- this was the best birthday ever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

When Harry goes to sleep that evening his Auntie Rowena smiles.

"Happy birthday my wee lad! How has your day been?" Harry smiles too and tells her about Diagon Alley, his new owl Hedwig and the strange man who had sold him a wand.

Surprisingly the woman doesn't seem too impressed by this. Her nose crinkles slightly as if there were a bad smell.

"Oh- you won't need a wand lad. They're a bit of a beginners thing. I'm sure you'll find it a lot easier to just use your magic then direct it through one of those things." Harry frowns, "But don't you worry- you'll run circles 'round them. Did you say you were going to Hogwarts?" The boy nods and Auntie Rowena grins.

"Then we'll have to step up your training- eh? Don't want you to get pushed around by a bunch of ninnies, do we?" The witch reclines in the blank space made of his dream, perched on something half imagined.

"You know about Hogwarts?!" The woman nods smiling at Harry's shock.

"Well- almost every magical child from Britain goes there. Of course I've heard of it. In fact- there's rumoured to be something there that I'm quite interested in retrieving." The boy is thrilled at the opportunity to go to the same school his tutor went to.

"What is it?" The woman pats her student on the head.

"Now don't you worry about it my dear- I don't have the time to track it down so I guess it'll have to stay where it is." She sighs wistfully. Harry leans forwards.

"But I could look for it! You've taught me a tracking spell so if it's near where the castle is I could find it for you!" Rowena smiles.

"Oh, Harry! What did I do to deserve an apprentice like you?" The boy blushes and the older witch smiles down upon him, "Now- why don't we get onto magic. We're going to show those wand users what they're missing out on!" And so Harry practises his spells and charms and his ingredient gathering- his mind providing various challenging environments to test his skill.

It is nearing his usual wake up time when Rowena stops him, grinning widely.

"Oh- just look at you! I remember when you were a wee little thing who didn't know Thurizas from Wynn- now look at you! Are you sure it won't be too much trouble to find one little thing for your Auntie Rowena?" If Harry were less naïve he might have noticed how much she was simpering. As it is he doesn't.

"It's no trouble at all- you've done so much for me!" So the old witch smiles.

"Okay then- what I'm looking for is a small red stone. Some people call it the 'Philospher's Stone' and what I've heard is that it's going to be hidden somewhere in your school." She then grins widely, voice pitching up in excitement, "I think it could help weaken my curse." The boy nods determinedly.

"I'll definitely find it then!" Rowena bends down, pressing a kiss against his cheek, hands settled on either shoulder.

"Oh- I knew I could count on you! I'll see you tonight my boy!" She waves as he begins to slip into the waking world.

"Goodbye Auntie Rowena!"

It isn't long until Harry is sitting on the Hogwarts Express.

For some reason Cas had insisted that it was something that had to happen so they had went along with it. All of his things had been neatly packed into his trunk with the help of Jody and after a somewhat tearful goodbye and a promise to write he had been bundled into his own compartment to wait for the train to leave.

"Anyone sitting there?" A young red-headed boy stands in the entrance pointing to the seat opposite Harry. 'Everywhere else is full.'

Harry shakes his head and the boy sits down. He glances at Harry and then looks quickly out of the window, prentending he hadn't. Harry it about to ask about the smudge on his nose when the door opens again, admitting two more red-heads who seem to be familiar with the boy in front of Harry.

"Oh- didn't notice you there." Says one boy looking to his mirror image.

"Fred and George Weasley." The other speaks and they each gesture to the other when either name is called and Harry can already tell that any efforts at remembering who is who will be futile.

"And this is our brother, Ron."

"Nice to meet you, Fred, George, Ron. I'm Harry Potter." The younger boy just gawps.

"Blimey," says one of the older boys, "Are you-?" The other continues. Harry presumes they are twins.

"He is! Aren't you?" he stares curiously at Harry.

"What?" Harry stares back at them.

" _The_ Harry Potter." Harry just watches them. He opens his mouth to speak.

"Well I-"

"Destroyer of Dark Lords-"

"Teenage Dream for at least half of the school-"

"Slayer of Eldritch Abominations?" Then Harry nods.

"Oh- yeah- him. I suppose I am." He shrugs and the twins nod to each other. Simultaneously they extend their arms towards him, shaking a hand each.

"Well- good to meet you-"

"Prankersters extraordinaire at your service-"

"From Dungbombs to asking out girls-"

"You can't go far wrong with Weasley Inc." The two then duck out the door, taking a second to mess up their brother's hair before they do.

"Bye ickle Ronniekins." Ron just stares at the closed door, face pale.

"Are you okay?" The ginger shakes his head.

"They've never done that before- I think they're planning something." Harry frowns.

"I'm going to guess that's a bad thing." The boy nods, freckles standing out against his almost ill complexion.

"Yes. Very." They sit in silence for a while as Ron tries to recover from the shock.

"So are your whole family wizards?" The innocuous question seems to help calm the boy.

"Er- yes, I think so. I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already." Harry can feel the excitement at finally being in contact with people like him.

The boy doesn't answer the question.

Harry presumes he's being modest or careful- a good idea really. Auntie Rowena had told him it's never wise to let anyone know the true extent of your power.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?" The boy looks somewhat disgusted, as if they were talking about bugs or road kill.

"What do you mean by Muggles?" Ron's eyebrows raise in shock.

"You mean you don't know!" Harry nods slowly, "Muggles are people who can't use magic."

"Oh," Says Harry, "Yes- I suppose I did then. I lived with some rather horrible Muggles when I was younger but someone helped me escape from them. The Muggles I live with at the moment are the best!" Ron stares at him in wonder as the boy grins from ear to ear.

"I mean it would be nice to know more magical people but that's what I've come here for." The ginger smiles.

"Yeah- I guess it is."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

"What are your family like?" Harry watches in confusion as the boy frowns.

"I'm the last of six brothers to go to Hogwarts- my sister's going next year but it's not the same because she's a girl. I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left- Bill was a Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand and Percy's old rat." Ron seems to get progressively more upset through his speech. He pulls a fat grey rat out of his jacket, still asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a Prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead.' The boy's ears start going the same way as his hair and he closes his mouth to a thin line, seemingly worried.

Harry smiles at his new friend.

"Well it sounds like you'll have to find the thing you're good at. You don't have to follow what any of your brothers did- you're not the same person. Besides I'm sure you know tons more things than me." After all he'd been in the magical world his whole life, "I bet I'll be the worst in class." Or maybe average but Ron seems a little more upbeat when Harry finishes so he says nothing. The boy shakes his head.

"Nah- you'll be fine. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough." The outside world is nothing like Harry has ever seen, grass and hedges reaching out into the distance and dotted with sheep and cows.

Scabbers snores in the silence between them as they both think about their new school.

Around half past twelve there's a clattering from the corridor. The door slides open and a woman smiles at them.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" Harry, eager to try new things, slid off his seat. Ron mutters something about having sandwiches.

"I'll get you something anyway." He steps out into the corridor before Ron can argue.

Cas had given him a good amount of money from his bank account and he should have something to bring back for everyone because they couldn't come themselves.

The trolley is piled with strange boxes with animated faces and packets with little starbursts dancing across the surface. Harry takes some of everything, paying the woman two gold coins and getting ten of the silver and seventeen of the bronze coins back.

Ron stares at him wide eyed as he pushes his way back into the compartment and tips it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Not very but my family will probably want to try some. Here-" Harry throws a pasty to the boy, "I'm not sure what it is but it looks good." The tips of the boy's ears go pink again.

"I can't-" Harry waves him off, carefully packing away the food he's saving for his family.

"I said I'd buy you something and we're friends right?" Ron smiles awkwardly,

"Yeah, we're friends." Harry opens his own pasty and takes a bite. The flavour is strange but he can't say he doesn't like it.

"What is this?" He manages somehow to make out the word 'pumpkin' around Ron's mouthful of food. He laughs and the boy's face turns red.

"What are you laughing at?"

"You remind me of one of my uncles." Ron relaxes a little.

"Oh. What are your family like?" Harry smiles.

"I have three uncles, Sam, Dean and Castiel. Sam and Dean are brothers and Castiel is their friend. They're really cool- they fight monsters to protect innocent people and they've saved my mom's and my two sister's lives a lot. Castiel was the one who helped me get away from my relatives. My mom puts bad people in prison and she's saved my uncles' lives too. When the monsters get into her town she knows how to get rid of them too. She's called Jody. My sisters are really different. One's called Claire and she wants to fight monsters too because they killed her parents- she teaches me when mom isn't watching. My other sister is called Alex and she's the opposite. Her family were bad people- Claire says they were the monsters we hunt- and she just wants to live a normal life." Harry stops himself before he mentions Rowena, remembering her warning about her curse. Ron looks impressed.

"Wow! So most of your family are like aurors?" Harry presumes they're the wizarding police so nods.

"Yeah, sort of- what's this?" He holds up a pack of Chocolate Frogs.

"They aren't _really_ frogs, are they?" Ron laughs,

"No. Maybe at Beauxbatons- they're the French wizarding school. What's the card? I'm missing Agrippa." Harry stares at him and the boy blushes,

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know- sorry- Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect- Famous Witches and Wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy." Harry unwraps it and checks the card.

"Dumbledore." He looks older than what Harry would expect for a witch or wizard, especially after meeting Auntie Rowena who claims to be over three-hundred, "Do you want one?" Ron nods eagerly,

"Yeah! I might get Agrippa- thanks!" Harry turns the card over and reads. By the time he turns his card over again the man has disappeared. He holds it up for Ron to see.

"Are they meant to do that?" The boy looks at him oddly.

"Yeah- can't expect him to hang around all day. He'll be back though. I've got Morgana again. Do you want it? I have about six of her already and you could start collecting." His eyes stray to the pile of frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself- in the Muggle world people stay still in photographs." Ron seems gobsmacked.

"They don't move at all? Weird!" Dumbledore appears again, smiling up at Harry. Ron seems more interested in the chocolate than the cards but he supposes it's because the boy is used to them. He has to admit the chocolate is nicer than the chocolate flavoured candy his mom buys occasionally.

Harry adds Hengist of Woodcroft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus and Merlin to his collection and opens a bag of Bertie Bott's Every- Flavour Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warns, "When they say every flavour, they _mean_ every flavour- you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavoured one once." The boy picks out a green bean, inspects it for a few seconds before carefully biting into the corner.

"Bleaargh- see? Sprouts." Harry adds another strike in the box labelled 'similarities between Ron and Uncle Dean'.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

Harry is careful to check each bean before he eats it and so doesn't accidentally eat anything bad.

The landscape is turning even more foreign outside the window, filled with trees, rivers and dark green hills, when there is a knock on their compartment door.

A round-faced boy who looks on the verge of tears sticks his head around the door.

"Sorry," He shifts awkwardly, miserable gaze fixed on the floor, "but have you seen a toad at all?" Harry looks across to Ron before they both shake their heads.

"Would you like help looking for him?" Harry can almost feel the ginger-haired boy's apprehension without looking at him. The boy sniffs slightly.

"It's okay. You don't have to." Harry stands up, stretching his stiff limbs and letting out thin tendrils of magic to focus in on the amphibian.

"It's no trouble- I'm Harry Potter. Coming Ron?" The boy doesn't respond, torn between his new friendship and the fact that the newcomer seems like someone people laugh at.

"It's alright- I'll hold the room down for when you finish." With a nod Harry closes the door.

"Later Ron." He turns to the snivelling boy, "I think your toad is this way." Harry points through the corridor. The boy stares at him in confusion and amazement before his face drops into glumness.

"So you're Harry Potter… I'm Neville Longbottom." Harry grins as they walk, leading the other boy to where there is the only vaguely amphibian life force on the whole train.

"Nice to meet you Neville." The boy frowns.

"Thank you- for helping me too. No one else even offered." Harry smiles slightly, focusing in on the exact area and pinpointing the toad.

"Two compartments along on the left. It's no problem- I hope we can be friends." Neville retrieves his toad which squirms, croaking desperately. By the time he reaches Harry again he is only a little red.

"Really- thank you- he's important to me." Harry inspects the creature confusedly.

"I think he needs a check up- he doesn't look so good. Do you have somewhere to sit? Why don't you join Ron and I?" Neville smiles.

"Thanks Harry- maybe that's why he's been trying to escape so much lately. Are you sure it's okay?" The green-eyed boy nods.

"Of course- the more the merrier."

The two return to their compartment, Harry firmly pressing his tracking magic onto Trevor- as he learns the toad is called- in case of another escape. Ron is sitting, idly waving his wand. He looks up, confused by the appearance of Neville but making no comment on him joining them.

After the awkward boy has stored his belongings on one of the racks above their heads the ginger snorts.

"Guess at least your toad does more than my rat- all he does is sleep." Scabbers has not moved from his earlier position, still dead to the world in Ron's lap. The boy gestures at him exasperatedly.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…" Ron readies his wand and Harry immediately notices the glowing white hairs poking out the end of the battered looking wand.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway-" He raises his wand and- before Harry can even think to warn the oblivious wizard about the various directions which magic can exit his wand which aren't the intended- he has finished the spell.

"Sunshine, daises, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

The rat remains unchanged.

"See- nothing."

More accurately- almost nothing happened due to misfire but the brief flurry of magical energy highlights a small thread of untucked power coming from the rat that feels distinctly human.

"Ron. Put the rat down." The boy stares at Harry, brows furrowing at the worry seeping through his voice.

"What- why?" Harry's eyes remain fixed on the rat-human while he speaks very calmly.

"Ron- trust me. You need to put it down." Neville watches silently, fear kicking in at the power in the emerald-eyed boy's voice.

Ron pales and obliges.

Gently he scoops the rat out of his lap with trembling hands and places it on the floor.

Once everyone has retreated to the walls of the compartment Harry wards the compartment so nothing can get in or out. For caution he places another around the rat-man.

When everything is in place he breathes slowly and begins unwinding each thread of magic, peeling them back until in front of them- taking up most of the floor- is a large, smelly, balding man with a missing finger.

Ron lets out a squeak, looking violently ill. Neville just stares wide-eyed.

"Bloody hell." Harry nods in agreement with the sentiment.

"We should keep this under wraps until we can get someone to deal with it." The ginger nods, freckles as dark as ink spots on his ghost-pale face. He stares at the aged figure with confusion then blinks, snapping his head up to look at Harry.

"No- wait- how and why the hell did you turn my rat into a man?!"

"I don't think he did Ron." If possible the boy turns even paler at Neville's comment.

"So you mean he's-" Neville nods solemnly,

"He might have been cursed." Harry doesn't have a clue how they came to that conclusion when all the magic tucking the man into his rat form was clearly his own.

"But what kind of curse could do that?" Ron asks, gesturing to the man.

"More importantly- how did you uncurse him Harry?" Both boys stare at Harry expectantly.

"It wasn't a curse- it was-" Trevor croaks and they fall silent enough to hear the footsteps approaching.

Harry hastily conceals him enough that any new comers shouldn't see him and tears down the wards before anyone can get to the door. The man still hasn't woken up.

Ron and Neville stand for a moment longer in utter confusion as the door opens, their bottoms firmly hitting the seats the moment before a blonde boy steps into the compartment.

It was the boy from the robes shop- Harry notes dully, glad that something was going like Castiel had told him.

Harry's friends glance at the floor briefly as the boy- Harry really can't remember his name- doesn't even look at it.

"Weasel. Longbottom. Looking for your brains?" Two other boys follow the blonde in and he gets down to business, nose stuck high in the air.

"Is it true? They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" Castiel had said he was meant to get on badly with the boy even though Harry was meant to be polite at the beginning.

"Yes- that's true." He says slowly.

The blonde gestures backwards carelessly.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," He smirks, focusing on Harry.

"And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." For a moment Harry thinks the blonde is trying to impersonate a fictional womanizer, alcoholic and spy. He lets out a small chuckle and Ron joins him, trying to hide it under a cough.

"Think my name's funny, do you?"

"I'm sorry- you seemed similar to this Muggle movie character because-" And with that short statement, Harry Potter became the mortal enemy of one Draco Malfoy.

"- I can see you aren't worthy of associating with the Malfoys _Potter_. I was going to help you find the right sort of friends but clearly you've already found people suitable for you." He leaves, nose still in the air.

Ron breaks the silence he left behind.

"How the bloody hell did they not see him!"

Reminded of his priorities Harry immobilises the man, silences him and floats him onto the unused luggage rack.

Ron and Neville watch in horror, confusion and amazement.

The naked man snoozes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God- I was sooooo tempted to go;   
> 'a blonde boy steps into the compartment.
> 
> It was… DARKO MALFOU!1!1! (Drako iz da luv ov mi lyfe- if u dnt lik hm u cn fuk oof preepz)'   
> but I couldn't because this may be crack ficish but Harry is no Ebony Dementia Raven Tara Way (or whatever it is).


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did. For example I did not write McGonagall's speech but J. K. Rowling did.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts is uneventful, Neville and Ron being in awe of (and slightly afraid of) Harry and Harry considering the fact that his Auntie Rowena might be right about him running circles around the competition.

I mean even if Ron had only had the rat for a few minutes surely an older witch or wizard should have noticed out of all the people on the platform. Rowena had always taught that safety should come before anything too so surely someone should have had a good look over the rat and realised that it wasn't one?

Harry was beginning to become concerned with his safety.

When the conductor warns that they have five minutes until arrival the boys hurriedly change into their robes, both excited and nervous.

Harry says goodbye to Hedwig who chirrups back, tilting her head a little.

"I'll get something for you if I can." The owl hoots softly and Harry laughs, giving her a pat on the head. She fluffs her feathers up in response and Harry closes the cage before she can bat him out the door.

"I'm going- don't worry!" Harry brings the sleeping man down from the luggage rack and floats him behind him.

That's one piece of luggage that should definitely not be discovered before he figured out what to do with it.

Ron and Neville both pale, trying not to stare at the man.

"Um, Harry, mate?" Ron starts, looking very queasy, "You think you could do whatever you did for Malfoy for us?" Neville nods in agreement and Harry nods pulling the strings joining the man and the two boys apart.

"That any better?" They blink in unison and Neville nods.

"Yeah, thanks." Ron nods in agreement.

"Except we still know he's there but it's better."

A giant waves to them, grinning at everyone as they step off the train.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! C'mon, follow me- any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'- years follow me!" The three boys join the crowd following the man carefully over the steep path. Nobody speaks much, trying to focus on not slipping.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec. Jus' round this bend here." The narrow path opens out suddenly on to the edge of a dark lake. On the other aside, on top of a great mountain there is a castle with sparkling windows and towers.

Harry is impressed and judging by the loud 'Oooooh!' so is everyone else.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The giant calls, pointing to a fleet of little boats bobbing gently in the water. Harry is pleased to note the protective magic on them.

He floats the naked man above a boat and clambers in, pulling the other two boys with him. A girl with buck teeth and bushy brown hair joins them, sitting next to Harry.

"I'm Hermione Granger- who are you?" she says as the boats begin to move.

"I'm Ron Weasley." Says Ron, somewhat begrudgingly.

"Neville Longbottom." Neville smiles at her and she smiles back a little.

"Harry Potter." The girl peers at him curiously.

"Are you really? I've read a lot about you- I ordered extra books for some background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_." Harry is impressed by her research. He thinks Sam would like her too.

"Oh- I am?" The girl looks at him sharply.

"Yes- surely the people looking after you told you how important you are?" Harry nods.

"Yeah- they did. I just didn't really know it was so big a deal. The whole Voldemort-" The boys gasp.

"You just said You-Know-Who's name!" They look at Harry in mixture of shock and amazement. Both Harry and Hermione stare at the boys oddly.

"Well. Yeah. That whole thing isn't so widespread in America." Ron, Neville and Hermione all look like they're going to say something before the giant's voice booms over their heads.

"Heads down!" Harry frantically wraps another layer of protection around the naked man and drags him beneath the water. He ducks down himself, counting the seconds and hoping the man doesn't die. A curtain of ivy brushes over them all, effectively silencing any further conversation.

After twenty seconds the tunnel widens out into some kind of underground harbour and Harry lifts the man out of the water- thankfully both still alive and still asleep. Ron and Neville climb out of the boat, Neville extending a hand to Hermione with a slight blush and Ron helping Harry pull himself on to dry-ish land.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Asks the giant as he checks the boats.

Neville looks down at the toad curiously as he's dumped back into his hands.

"But I left you with my luggage." Trevor lets out a croak and Ron stares at the creature slightly repulsed.

Harry floats the man above the crowd, hoping that people disregard the dripping as a feature of the cave as they collectively walk up a flight of stone stairs and crowd around a huge, oak door.

"Everyone here?" The giant calls, his beady eyes passing over everyone. Seeing nothing out of place he raises a fist and knocks on the door three times.

Immediately the door swings open. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stands waiting in the door way looking as if she is ready to tell them all off for something.

The giant isn't put off.

"The firs'- years, Professor McGonagall," The woman nods, eyes focusing on the spot where the man floats for a second. She mutters something under her breath but continues regardless.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." She pulls the door open wider. The Entrance Hall is so big Harry is sure they could fit the whole of his home into it. The stone walls are lit with flaming torches, the ceiling fades into the distance when he looks up and a marble staircase leads up to the higher floors.

They all follow Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor, many children looking around in awe at what seems to be a fully functional medieval castle. On the right Harry can feel the large concentration of life and individual magical signatures- even more than when they were in Diagon Alley.

He allows himself a glance upwards to direct the floating man through the door frame as they are all crowded into a small empty chamber. Everyone seems uncomfortable with the proximity of everyone else but no one says anything as the Professor starts speaking.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family at Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes seem to linger on Ron's smudged nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." The first years watch as the door is closed again and mass speculation begins.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

Ron looks nervous.

"Are you okay?" Neville asks, looking confused. The ginger grimaces.

"Bit worried about the test. Fred said it hurts and I think he was joking but I don't want to be put in a house like _Slytherin_." Harry is somewhat surprised the boy doesn't give a theatrical shudder to go with the tone of disgust.

"Oh. It's nothing to be scared of really. All we do is wear a hat and it tells us where we go." Ron regains colour and even manages to laugh a little.

"Should've known he was joking!"

"That's good- I'd hate to be tested so soon- I'd fail for sure!" The bushy haired girl pipes up. Harry turns around to smile at her and she seems a little confused before giving a hesitant quirk of the lips back.

"Yeah- me too." Ron turns around too and the girl frowns.

"But aren't your family all witches and wizards?" The boy nods and blushes a little.

"Yeah but it's just not really something many families do." Hermione- Harry reminds himself- seems confused before her eyes widen and she stares past them.

"What is-" He turns and his instant reaction is shock.

How the hell are there ghosts here?

In the next instance he is moving, scrambling under his robes to get to his pockets. They don't seem to have noticed him yet.

In fact they were behaving very oddly. They _seemed_ to be arguing between themselves coherently with actual words.

Harry pulls the small container of salt from his pocket and keeps it tucked under his sleeve, still observing the strange ghosts.

"I say, what are you all doing here?" The one with the ruff and tights asks, suddenly realising that there were children all over the floor, many whimpering.

No one answers and Harry knows he shouldn't because these are an unknown threat but-

"We are waiting to be sorted." The ghost turns to him, shock and delight on his face.

"Oh- new students I see! I hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house you know." The ghost winks to the room cheerily.

"Move along now. The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Harry has never been so thankful for the Professor's presence in the whole time he has known her. Granted it's only been several minutes since he met her but the sentiment still counts. The ghosts float away through the walls, as casually as you could imagine.

"Now, form a line and follow me." Everyone does as she says. He gets into line behind a sandy haired boy. A peek behind him reveals Ron, then Neville and finally Hermione followed by more people he doesn't know.

They follow the woman out of the chamber, across the hall and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. The man floats above them still and Harry mentally thanks the architecture of the building for the tall doorways. He has to concentrate a little to not let him get too close to the candles floating in the air but he manages, letting the man drip dry over them.

They are lead up to the staff table, facing the rest of the students. Hundreds of faces stare at them, looking strangely eerie in the candlelight. The ghosts are here too, watching. He looks up at the ceiling and sees only a clear, starlit sky.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_." Hermione whispers from his left. Now she has said that he can see the delicate spell-work covering the whole ceiling, each piece interlocking with the next so that it looks like a gauze shimmering as different bits of the network light up in response to the small changes in the sky above it.

It's beautiful. Harry knows Cas would agree with him.

He really hopes he gets to learn that. Auntie Rowena was a master of everything to do with her own survival but she didn't show him anything that would really impress his family like he wanted to.

Harry drags his gaze back down again, just in time to see a hat on a stool in front of them twitch.

Animating inanimate objects too! Maybe he should stay for a while rather than just finishing what he needed and leaving. It looked like he could learn more here than he first thought.

Then the hat begins to sing and Harry wonders if Jody would let him take an apprenticeship under these wizards if he hasn't learned everything before he leaves.

The song finishes and Professor McGonagall steps forwards holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She pauses, looks down at the list, "Abbot, Hannah!" The girl stumbles out of the line, clearly embarrassed by being first. The hat falls down to cover her eyes when she puts it on her head. It waits a second then the rip near its brim opens again-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The table on the right cheers as the girl joins them, clapping as she takes her seat. The ghost with the ruff and tights waves at her.

"Bones, Susan!" She too joins Hufflepuff and takes a seat next to Hannah.

Terry Boot goes to Ravenclaw and the table second from the left claps this time, several people standing to shake the boy's hand as he joins them. Mandy Brocklehurst goes to Ravenclaw too.

The table on the far left explodes into cheers as Lavender Brown becomes the first new Gryffindor. The twins almost stand on their seats in their excitement.

Millicent Bulstrode is the first Slytherin and Justin Finch-Fletchley goes to Hufflepuff.

For some people the hat takes longer than for others, Harry notices. The sandy haired boy who had stood next to him had taken a whole minute to be put into Gryffindor whereas others had been sorted before the hat had actually touched down on their heads.

Hermione is called up and she runs eagerly up to the stool, almost jamming the hat onto her head. Harry pays particular attention, wondering if she'll go into Ravenclaw- the knowledge house according to the hat.

In the end she goes to Gryffindor and a quick glance to his left shows his faint shock mirrored on both Ron and Neville's faces.

Neville is called up, the hat takes a particularly long time on him.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Shouts the hat. Neville takes it off with a huge grin, placing it back on the stool.

Malfoy gets sent to Slytherin as the arrogant boy had predicted and eventually it's Harry's turn. He smiles at Ron encouragingly before he steps out of line and walks over to the hat.

Everyone starts whispering but Harry ignores them as he drops the hat on his head.

Harry waits.

And the hat begins to speak in his ear.

"Hmm- you are more difficult than I expected. Very difficult indeed. Plenty of courage and a strong need to protect other people. Quite the mind too- I think you'll find the lessons here a bit too easy for you but there's still a long way you can go before coming to the limits of your talent and- oh! That is interesting- with a mentor like that you should be going straight to Slytherin…" The hat seems to pause and Harry thinks about Hermione.

"Um, I'd rather go to Gryffindor with Hermione and Neville- we're friends already and one of the boys in Slytherin has already declared me his mortal enemy." _Sentient_ animated inanimate objects- this place is amazing.

The hat makes a sound oddly like laughter.

"You're right- Slytherin just isn't for you. Maybe I could convince you with Ravenclaw- I offered the girl that too but surely someone like you would see the intelligence of being accepted into the house for academics? The way you're getting all excited about learning everything here proves you'd be suited to their way of life." Harry is tempted- _really tempted_ \- to accepts the hat's offer.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

But- no- in the end he should probably stick with his friends. After all every house would get the same education. The hat seems to nod.

"Well, if you're sure- better be GRYFFINDOR!" It shouts the last word for the rest of the hall to hear. Instantly the entire Gryffindor table lets out a roar. A ginger (Harry presumes that he's related to Ron) shakes his hand when he arrives at the table, pumping it up and down vigorously. The twins' cheer can be heard even over the din of the rest of their house.

Harry is seated opposite one of the ghosts from earlier- this one has a ruff. The ghost reaches for him and Harry quickly drags the naked man through it. The man flinches but does not wake up- from which Harry determines he's glad it wasn't him being touched by a ghost. The ghost looks around disturbed and perplexed. Its eyes meet Harry's and it retreats, pulling its hand back to its side.

Harry looks towards the long table at the front of the hall. His eyes are instantly drawn to the bearded man sitting at the center of the table on a large, gold chair. He _thinks_ it's Dumbledore- at least he looks like the man on the back of his frog card. The man meets his gaze, curiosity twinkling in his eyes behind his half-moon glasses.

Briefly the Headmaster's eyes flicker to a point above Harry's head- the point Harry _knows_ the naked man is floating in. He raises his eyebrows in silent question.

Harry turns away, knowing that the man will probably ask to meet with him and he can explain then better than through eyebrows in a room full of people.

He also recognises the turban man from their brief handshake. Ron is sorted into Gryffindor, much to his brother's approval, and Harry claps loudly for his friend as he slides into the seat next to him, grinning.

The last person is sorted and Professor McGonagall rolls up the scroll, taking the Sorting Hat away with it.

Dumbledore stands and beams at the students. He raises his arms, gesturing to the whole hall.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" He sits down again to everyone's claps and cheers.

Harry laughs, Ron grinning beside him.

Food of every kind imaginable appears on platters going down the length of the table. Ron digs in like he hasn't eaten for years.

Harry stacks his plate with meat and vegetables (mom would not be impressed if she found out he hadn't been eating properly). The ghost attempts to speak to him again so Harry drags the naked man through it again.

Wisely it elects to talk to other, more willing, participants.

Harry glances over at the Slytherin table, his eyes instantly being caught by the ghost sitting there, staring forwards gaunt faced in robes covered with silver blood. Malfoy sits beside it, looking more than a little queasy.

When everyone has eaten their fill the dishes return to their original state. On the platters appear the puddings. Instantly Harry grabs himself a pie (Dean would be proud).

While they eat the talk turns to families.

"I'm half and half," Says a boy Harry thinks was called Sean. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mam didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." The others laugh and Ron asks Neville about his family.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned- but nothing happened until I was eight. Great- uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad." Harry can't believe it.

"What?" Everyone else has already moved on.

"Huh?" The boy looks up.

"Your family treated you like that?" Neville seems confused at the question and nods.

"Well- yeah."

"They let you almost be killed multiple times just to see if you had magic?" The boy blushes, spooning a piece of cake into his mouth.

"Yeah- guess it took a while to kick in." Harry shakes his head.

"Your family can't treat you like that. They aren't your real family." Neville stares at Harry, confused.

"What do you mean? My gran is my-" Harry cuts him off, eyes blazing.

"A wise man once told me that family doesn't start with blood- and it doesn't end with it neither. Your family should never put your life in danger just to see if you had magic. You could have died." The boy sighs,

"Harry- things are different in the Wizarding world. Besides I'm not dead."

"It doesn't mean it's alright!" Neville merely sighs, ignoring the argument he knows he can't win. By this time Harry doesn't feel like eating any more pie.

Harry looks away angrily as people keep talking around him, somehow not seeing the cruelty of dangling children from windows. His gaze travels across the hall, stopping at the main table.

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore are talking and the turban teacher seems to be trying to make conversation with a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.

The hook-nosed teacher looks straight into Harry's eyes. Harry smiles slightly and the man scowls, turning away. He doesn't look at Harry again.

The deserts disappear at last and Professor Dumbledore stands again. The hall falls silent.

"Ahem- just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He seems to look at Ron's brothers as he says this, "I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." Harry hears someone laugh.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" The Headmaster proclaims. The other teachers force themselves to smile.

Dumbledore flicks his wand and a long golden ribbon flows from it, rising above everyone and spelling out the words of the song.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune and off we go!"

And the school begins to sing.

Badly.

The last to finish are the Weasley twins, singing to an excessively slow funeral march. The Headmaster personally conducts their finishing lines, clapping loudly when they finally finish.

"Ah, music! A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" Harry is about to follow the rest of the first-years when a hand closes over his shoulder.

"The Headmaster wishes to speak to you." Professor McGonagall smiles tight-lipped and directs him over to Dumbledore, "I will give you an introduction to Gryffindor when you return and I will then expect you to answer some of my own questions Mr. Potter." Harry nods dutifully.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

The hall is soon empty of all except himself and the Headmaster.

"Headmaster Dumbledore." Harry greets, already feeling the power rolling off of him.

The man smiles in response.

"Harry Potter. I believe we have much to talk about- would you like adjourn to my office?" The boy nods courteously.

"Of course." Dumbledore leads the way through moving staircases and past living paintings and up another staircase which ascends by itself, much like an escalator, to a room filled with strange objects.

"Have a seat." The Headmaster gestures to a seat in front of the almost hidden desk. In the corner a bird made of flame snoozes, head tucked under its wing. Harry is briefly reminded of Hedwig. Dumbledore follows his gaze.

"Ah, yes, that's Fawkes. A phoenix- you know the legend of the phoenix, don't you?" Harry nods, bringing the man down a little for the lower ceiling.

"Yes sir, I do." And he can't help but be relieved that it isn't trying to kill people like Dean said he'd seen one do before. The man smiles again, sitting in his own high-backed chair behind the desk.

"Now- I was wondering if you could tell me about your friend over there?" Dumbledore points to the man still suspended in mid air.

"You can see him! I'm glad- I thought Professor McGonagall could too but nobody else paid any notice and I was worried about whether I got sent to the right school." Harry blushes slightly then apologises. The Headmaster just smiles, eyes twinkling in merriment.

"It's nothing my dear boy. If you would please release the spells keeping me from seeing him though- I'm afraid I still can't quite focus on him." The boy releases his enchantments on the sleeping man and the Headmaster stands abruptly, all gentleness gone. His wand is focused on the man, steady as can be.

"Where did you find this man Mr. Potter?" Harry doesn't move but strengthens the sleeping spell.

"He was disguised as Ron's rat- I noticed that there was an odd bit of magic coming off him so I untangled it." As an afterthought he adds, "Neville and Ron thought he might have been cursed but it didn't look like it to me. Do you know him Headmaster?" Dumbledore's eyes don't move from the prone man.

"You are an incredible wizard Harry- to be able to do so much at a young age. Your parents would have been proud." He still doesn't answer the boy's question, instead flicking his wand at the man before moving to the fireplace and throwing a strange green powder into the flames. The Headmaster sticks his head into the flames and calls out one by one after stating a room name for Professors McGonagall, Snape, Sprout and Flitwick.

After several seconds Harry watches in amazement as the four Professors climb out of the fireplace with a green flare. There is silence as they all stare at the naked man.

"Professors," The Headmaster begins, "I trust you all recognise this man." Quietly all four agree, obviously shocked by his appearance.

"Young Harry here found him in animagus transformation living as the pet of Ronald Weasley and managed to reverse the transfiguration. I think that we may have to reconsider the progression of events on the 31st of October 1981." The hook-nosed teacher frowns.

"Impossible." No one else says anything. Dumbledore takes another pinch of the green powder and calls this time for someone called 'the Minister'.

"Minerva if you could please settle Mr. Potter in his dorm room before we sort this situation out." The stern woman nods.

"Time to go Mr. Potter." Harry shakes his head.

"Um- if you could wait just a second." The hook-nosed teacher snorts, "Would you like me to leave my enchantments on him?" The Headmaster frowns, considering the question.

"If you would be able to remove them, Mr. Potter. I believe we will be able to handle him." Harry does. The man awakens instantly.

His eyes widen when he realises where he is and in the blink of an eye he is a rat again. The bat-like man flicks his wand at it and it goes still.

Professor McGonagall breathes out heavily.

"Well, I guess that is our confirmation. I think it is high time you went to bed Mr. Potter." Harry nods, pleased to have one less thing to deal with. He allows McGonagall to lead him back down the stairs. The wall closes behind them.

"Mr. Potter." She waits, a sad smile flickering over her lined face, "Your parents would be proud of you." Harry smiles.

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore said that too." The Professor nods. They walk for a while more in silence. The portraits are asleep, Harry notices as he passes.

"I have a proposal for you, Mr. Potter. If you show as much promise in Transfiguration as I expect from Dumbledore's account I will tutor you personally." Harry isn't sure what to say so he nods.

"Will I be told what's happening with the man, Professor?" McGonagall stills in front of him.

"I don't know Mr. Potter. I will ask the Headmaster." It doesn't take them much longer to reach the Gryffindor rooms. Professor McGonagall speaks the password and a portrait of a fat woman in a pink dress swings open.

"I trust that you won't speak of this to anyone else Mr. Potter." The boy nods.

"I won't Professor." And he doesn't.

Professor McGonagall tells him where he is sleeping and again, smiles.

"You will be a great wizard, Mr. Potter- just like your mother and father. They were both in my house you know?" Then she is gone and Harry finds his way to his dorm, changes into his pyjamas and lies in the bed next to Ron's. For the first time in a long time Harry wonders about his real parents.

The next morning pushes light through the velvet curtained windows and Harry sits up with a groan.

Monday- his first day at Hogwarts.

At breakfast Professor McGonagall hands out their schedules, much to the delight of Hermione.

"We have Transfiguration first! I'm so excited! In-" Harry zones out at this point, only catching the fleeting smile on McGonagall's face as the young witch enthuses about her subject. Ron groans irritatedly but continues eating, unprepared to complain when they haven't really met yet. He accepts his timetable with thanks.

Their first lesson is with Hufflepuff. Quickly he finishes up his breakfast and drags Ron and Neville off to find their first class.

After Ron finishes complaining about the food he didn't get to eat that is.

Eventually they find an older student willing to point them towards the transfiguration classrooms but when they arrive Hermione is already at the door.

"I memorised as much of the castle layout as I could from 'A History of Hogwarts' by Bathilda Bagshot." She states awkwardly, proud of herself. The ginger rolls his eyes at her enthusiasm.

"I bought it as extra reading because it was on the shelf next to 'A History of Magic'." Hermione continues.

It doesn't take long until the rest of their class arrives which Harry is sure all of them are thankful for.

The bell rings and Professor McGonagall lets them in.

As soon as they find their seats Harry's initial impressions of the teacher are confirmed.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," She says, eyeing each of them sternly, "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Then she changes her desk into a pig and back and Harry thinks Transfiguration is almost as beautiful as the ceiling in the Great Hall. The use of the wand streamlines the magic, drawing less from the user and focusing any part that might spin off and go awry.

Harry _just knows_ that she could do it just as effortlessly without though. He can see it in the practised movement, the fact that not a single part of the magic coming off her has changed or been expended in any way and the fact that the pig is perfectly clean of all traces of magic. He has a feeling that the only way he would be able to reverse a spell like that or even detect it had been cast would be if he had time to analyse the bespelled object and knew exactly what he was looking for.

She has them take notes next. Harry has a very small understanding of most of them but he feels the same excitement clearly portrayed by Hermione sitting on the row in front of them who seems to almost be bouncing in her seat, unnerving the poor Hufflepuff next to her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

Then Professor McGonagall tells them that their next task is to transfigure a match into a needle. She demonstrates, picking up the small splinter of wood and tapping her wand to it. It thins out, a small hole opening in one end. This is a simpler transfiguration due to the similar sizes and shapes and Harry thinks he could handle it fairly easily. She turns the object back into its original form and then back into a needle again.

The Professor hands out the matches.

"Do not worry if you cannot complete the transfiguration this lesson. Transfiguration is one of the most complex types of magic you will learn at Hogwarts so it may take several lessons before you make any progress." She begins walking around the room, stopping at various desks to give pointers.

Harry tries to recall what McGonagall did. Gently he places the tip of his wand on the match and pushes his magic through it, letting it loop and curl around the piece of wood as he imagines the needle it will become to guide him. He pulls the threads tight and they tuck themselves somewhat messily into the perfectly formed needle.

He looks to either side of him. Neither Ron's nor Neville's match has had any change- in fact Ron's wand is directing his magic to the left of the match and Neville's just doesn't seem to be doing anything.

Hermione in front of him is having more success. Her match is a dull silver and is slowly becoming more pointed. Her magic wraps carefully around the match, entwining itself similarly to his own but more cautiously. Harry wonders if this is because she hasn't been exposed to magic or because she's focusing too much on getting it right.

McGonagall comes along their row, advising Ron to adjust his grip (to compensate for the quality of the wand thinks Harry) and Neville to put slightly less power into his wand. A small trickle of energy starts to wind its way around his match in response.

She looks down at Harry's needle and smiles, showing it to the whole class.

"A point for Gryffindor Mr. Potter." Then more quietly just to him, "If you would please meet with me after dinner Mr. Potter. You are a natural in Transfiguration and I would like to ascertain your skill level. If you could keep practising for now." Harry nods, pleased with his progress and the Professor resumes monitoring everybody's work.

Ron watches him pull the spell apart, leaving a match laying on the desk.

"How did you do that? I can't get my match to do anything." The boy sounds slightly envious.

"I just thought about what I wanted the needle to look like and let the magic do the rest- I can help you if you like." The boy goes red.

"Nah- that's okay thanks."

"Oh- are you sure? I wouldn't mind." Ron nods.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll figure it out." Harry is doubtful due to the state of Ron's wand but says nothing, merely nodding and going back to work on his match.

Before the end of the lesson Harry has managed to tuck a few more strands of magic into his transfigured needle, Ron and Neville both have the original match still on their desks and Hermione has managed to turn her match fully silver, each end finishing with an obvious point. She seems somewhat dismayed by her efforts despite the Professor's smile.

"Harry!" She catches up with him as they leave the classroom, "Would you be able to give me some tips later? I can't believe you managed to turn a match into a needle just like that!" Hermione smiles awkwardly. Ron groans at the reminder of the lesson.

"Of course- maybe after eating? And you did well too- you managed to turn the match silver and pointy- it's not much further from there." The girl practically beams at the praise and the thought of doing better.

The four of them make their way to the Main Hall and eat their fill. Ron almost elects to stay behind but follows them in the end, whether out of not having other friends or genuinely wanting some help Harry is unsure.

It doesn't take them long to find an abandoned classroom.

"I just realised we don't have matches." States Harry. Hermione almost jumps out of the seat she had settled in to.

"I'll ask Professor McGonagall if we can borrow some!" The girl immediately rushes from the room. Ron watches wide-eyed.

"What's her problem?" The door swings back to closed.

"I think it's just because she's Muggleborn," Says Neville diplomatically, "This must be more exciting for her than for us." Both boys seem to forget Harry's own muggle upbringing and his enthusiasm for lessons.

"Can't wait for Defence next- I wonder what we'll do first." Ron grins excitedly, "Maybe we'll get taught how to get rid of Trolls!" Harry isn't sure what kind of school would let creatures like trolls near the students but he hopes it isn't the kind Hogwarts is. He reminds himself to ask Sam if he can do some research on monsters from his copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' because he needs to know how to get rid of them or keep them away.

Neville seems to share his trepidation.

"Aren't they kind of dangerous? They're really strong and vicious."

"Yeah- that's why we'd-" At that moment Hermione bursts into the room again, followed by Professor McGonagall holding a box of matches. She does not seem impressed.

"If you are determined to practise something so dangerous outside of lessons you must come and find a teacher for that subject first. I am very disappointed that any of you would be so foolish even on the first day." Hermione looks at the floor.

"I'm sorry Professor- it was my idea but I just got so excited to learn more." The Professor does not smile but does open the match box.

"Yes. That is why I have come to observe until I can be reasonably sure that nothing dangerous will happen. Luckily as it is the first day everybody is still settling in but in the future this may not be possible. I hope you understand this Miss Granger." The girl nods, face red. McGonagall hands out a match to each of them.

Harry isn't really sure what to do- whether the Professor would lead the session now or if he was still meant to.

Everyone focuses on him. He presumes that means he is meant to do something.

"Um." Harry starts, mind blanking, "Well- the first thing I did was visualise what the needle would look like. Then I directed my wand at the match and let my magic go through it. I wrapped the magic around the needle as similarly to Professor McGonagall's as I could and then, when the match looked like a needle, I cut off the flow and tied the transfiguration closed." Three faces stare at him blankly, one passively.

"I believe you may be unable to help them Mr. Potter." All three of his friends go red.

"We can't be _that_ bad, Professor!" Complains Ron. The Professor nods.

"No. That is not the case. The problem is something I will have to discuss with Mr Potter later. If you could each practise the transfiguration I will watch over you for ten more minutes however then I must go and eat. If I think you will be safe enough by then I will allow you to practise for the remainder of lunch if you wish." The three place their wands against their matches. Ron's immediately misfires towards the door. Before it can touch the wood Harry redirects it and it dissipates harmlessly against the wall. Professor McGonagall advises Ron to alter his grip again and the magic hits the match this time. Harry looks to Professor McGonagall who nods at him and transfigures his own match again, coiling the magic up tighter than before.

By the time the ten minutes are up Hermione's match has assumed a silver colouration and the ends are sharp with a small dent where the hole would be, Neville's has started to turn a dull grey and Ron's has slightly pointier ends.

Professor McGonagall nods sharply.

"I am willing to allow you to practise for another twenty minutes as long as Mr Potter remains vigilant." Harry nods at this, "If could return all four matches to me this evening." Again Harry nods. Professor McGonagall picks us the box, stowing it in an inside pocket of her cloak.

"Yes Professor. Thank you for your help." The Professor leaves then but Harry swears he sees a flicker of a smile on her face as she gently closes the door behind her.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

The group work on their Transfiguration for the allotted time. Ron and Neville are slowly managing to make changes but Hermione has finally managed to turn her matchstick into a needle. It looks at least half as neat as Harry's as well which gives him a feeling of envy, that hers should be so good despite her having had no prior training whatsoever, and pride that it's because she has worked hard.

They each pass their match/needles to Harry who undoes each attempt and puts them into a small pocket inside his bag. Hermione is practically glowing with happiness and, despite his complaining, Ron seems pleased with his progress too. Neville is quiet but smiles, a little more confident in his abilities.

Hermione separates from them as they retreat to the common room, muttering something about studying. All three boys stare after her in confusion.

"We've only had one lesson- what's there to study?" Ron asks. Neville and Harry both shrug in bafflement, muddling their way back to Gryffindor tower for a brief game of Gobstones before Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Unfortunately the class is a disappointment compared to what everyone had expected of it. The classroom stinks of garlic, which prompts the Weasley twins to start the rumour that it was to ward off the vampire he'd met in Romania because he was afraid it would be coming back for him. Then he told them his turban had been a gift from an African prince (Harry privately thought he was taking inspiration from spam mail) as a thank-you for getting rid of a zombie yet tried to divert their attention with the weather when Seamus Finnigan asked to hear how he had defeated the creature.

It didn't help that the turban itself smelt funny.

Their first Herbology lesson wasn't so bad either- mostly just Professor Sprout telling them what not to touch or they'll die. For Harry this was only vaguely useful given Auntie Rowena's comprehensive tuition on fauna from all over the world (but especially from Scotland given her heritage). He also knew exactly which non-magical plants he could use to give similar effects.

Much to Harry's confusion Neville has a natural skill for plants and yet doesn't seem to mind the baby steps. He actually seems more at home in the greenhouse, smiling as he puts his hand up to answer a question. The boy quails a little at the attention from fellow students but- altogether- he manages well.

In fact Harry is fairly certain he has quite a few people's admiration, the Professor's and a large number of the Hufflepuffs none the least.

That evening the four eat together, Hermione, Neville and Harry talking about their impressions of all the lessons whilst Ron eats away at the mountains of food between them.

Hermione says goodnight early, leaving to her shared room to go over her notes for the day and look ahead for tomorrow's lessons. Ron and Neville play chess. Neville is losing spectacularly when the time comes for Harry to meet with Professor McGonagall. Ron barely spares him a glance but Neville smiles.

"Good luck Harry- I'm sure it'll go better than my chances here." He gestures to the game board and one of his pieces insults him causing him to blush. Harry leaves them to their game and leaves for McGonagall's office, hoping for some explanation of the rat-man.

He knocks on the door to her office and the door opens to the Professor sitting behind her desk. She welcomes him in, offering a cup of tea which Harry politely declines. The boy returns the matches and the teacher nods, replacing all but one in the matchbox.

"Now if you would please show me your transfiguration Mr. Potter." She places the match in front of him. Harry lets his wand hover over it and the magic spools out over the small piece of wood, sinking into its surface a little before he pulls it tight. A few threads remain but it's his best attempt so far.

The Professor leans closer, touches her wand to it, nods.

"Impressive Mr. Potter. Your proficiency at Transfiguration seems to be at an end of Second Year level. Would you please reverse the Transfiguration." Harry does and the teacher presses her wand against the surface again. She places that match back in the box with the others.

"Can I ask you to attempt to transfigure this quill-" She places a sharply cut feather in front of him, " into a stone." Harry observes the object for a second, looks at all the points he could anchor his magic and where the loops might pull it into the right shape. He grimaces.

"I can try." The Professor nods, tilts her chin up and observes as Harry lays the tip of his wand on the middle of the feather. The magic doesn't come so easily and Harry can see where it might have been a mistake to attach bits of it and other parts which need a stronger connection. The quill fold in on itself, compacting slightly as it forms a greyish sponge-like object.

McGonagall seems to be able to tell he hasn't finished yet. She waits. He undoes the Transfiguration and breathes in and out slowly, focusing on what he wants it to become and which parts he needs to change.

His second attempt is more successful. The feather contracts to an obviously grey blob, still slightly spongy in consistency but not full of large holes. The Professor seems pleased but doesn't smile.

"And now back." The magic recoils back from the Transfiguration, sending a strange pinching sensation through Harry's awareness. Professor McGonagall nods, coming to a conclusion.

"In time you will improve Mr Potter but for now your skills are only an indicator for your future. If you feel that you would benefit from extra instruction I am willing to make the case to Headmaster Dumbledore for the opportunity for either him or myself to give you one-on-one tuition." Harry just stares at her for several moments before stating robotically.

"I would be thankful for the opportunity." And all he can think about is a desk turning into a pig and the sky-ceiling.

"Very well. I will make enquiries. In the mean time I have been allowed to give you information on the events that transpired yesterday. Before that I would like to ask you some questions about your tuition." Harry feels his excitement squash down to a buzz of panic.

"Tuition?" He asks, hating the way his voice pitches up and cringing before he can stop himself. McGonagall looks at him sharply.

"Yes. Earlier you spoke of being able to see the strings of magic. This is a skill which is completely unheard of outside of the old masters and their apprentices. Hogwarts is perhaps the most prestigious magic school in Europe. Only three people in this entire faculty have knowledge of the skill and have acquired its usage. One of them is myself, one of them is the Headmaster and one of them is a former Duelling champion. This knowledge is not available for any amount of money, nor fame and cannot be self-taught no matter how magically powerful a witch or wizard is. This means that you have been tutored by someone of great power." Harry is silent. He hadn't realised- well he had but not to this extent- how powerful his Auntie was.

"I can't answer any questions- they made me promise not to tell. I shouldn't even be telling you that I have been taught by anyone but you already know so I can't do anything about it." The Professor's frown only deepens and she takes a deep breath.

"Mr. Potter I will not make you tell me anything. However I will request that as you are unwilling to speak to me you do not reveal your knowledge to anyone else. It will grant you an ease in many areas of magic which will make you a target for many people if you are not careful to hide how you gained this proficiency. If you ever wish to speak of your training you should find myself, Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Flitwick." She shifts and places the quill back in a drawer.

"Now- I suppose you would like an explanation of yesterday's events." Harry relaxes just a little, relieved that the issue hadn't been pushed and resolving to speak to Rowena about it that night.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

"The man whose transfiguration you cancelled is called Peter Pettigrew. He was a friend of your father while they attended Hogwarts. We had previously believed that another man, your Godfather Sirius Black, was the Secret Keeper on the night of your parent's deaths and had betrayed them and killed this man. The Ministry of Magic had the man you uncovered have an emergency trial under Veritaserum- a truth-telling serum- to discover the true events of that night. It has now been bought to light that Peter Pettigrew was the true traitor and that your godfather had proposed the switch so that his family could not make him reveal their whereabouts. As Sirius Black had been believed to have caused the deaths of your family- particularly as they were a well-respected family- he had been admitted to Azkaban. Headmaster Dumbledore is doing his best to speed up the proceedings but there is hope that your godfather can be released and his name cleared relatively quickly. The Minister doesn't want to seem unjust but he is currently protesting against the quality of the Veritaserum as he does not want the public to know someone has been wrongly imprisoned under his nose." Harry just stares at her.

"I don't know anything about my blood family." He admits. The teacher looks at him, incredulous then worried.

"Your relatives never told you about your heritage?" The boy shakes his head.

"No- I was only with them for a few years. I asked once and they told me that my parents had died in a car crash while drunk which left me with the scar." He gestures to his forehead and McGonagall schools her expression into something more neutral.

"Where have you been since then?"

"Well I was running away from my cousin and suddenly found myself in America one day and a woman decided to take me in." He says their agreed cover story without thinking and the Professor just nods.

"This woman treats you well?" Harry nods.

"Yes. She is the sheriff of her town and has two daughters whom she picked up off the streets too. We all get on well and mom covered up my accidental magic really well." Professor McGonagall frowns.

"The laws in America are rather constricting I have been led to believe. I would still be more comfortable if I could meet your family. Especially when your godfather has been released from Azkaban I believe he would like to know you have been in safe hands. Would it be possible for me to arrange an appointment with your family?" Harry thinks.

"I think so- I don't know if mom would be willing to leave her town for too long but I know she would be interested in meeting one of my teachers." The Professor nods.

"I will have to tell Headmaster Dumbledore about your change of location but I will arrange a meeting with your guardian at the soonest convenience. Would you like me to tell you about your family?" The boy looks at her, drops his gaze to his wand on the desk in front of him.

"I think," He starts, "I think I would like that. Thank you." The Professor smiles fondly.

"Very well then. I will save more for our next meeting as I expect we will be having many more and it is getting late. For now I will tell you that your parents are Lily Evans and James Potter and that when they started at Hogwarts they hated each other very much." She dismisses Harry then who wonders about how his parents ever got together if they hated each other so much all the way up into his dormitory.

Everyone else is sound asleep so Harry quickly changes his clothes for bed and closes the curtains around him.

Rowena stands, rotating her back slightly.

"You go to sleep quite late even with the time difference. I've been waiting for a while." The slight frown changes into a smile as she looks down at the boy.

"How are you this evening Harry? Learnt anything new today?" Harry answers the questions quickly, hoping they can get past the greetings without too much delay.

"I'm fine. I've learned lots today in Transfiguration but the other lessons were things I already knew." The older witch smiles proudly.

"That's my lad- I told you you'd run circles around them!" As she speaks she bends down, brushing imaginary dust from Harry's shoulders, "So, what's got your tongue? There's something you aren't telling me Harry." The boy nods and sighs.

"One of my teachers here has already guessed that I was taught by someone else. She said that I must have been taught by an old master or one of their apprentices. She didn't make me tell her but I don't know what to do if someone does find out anything more than I have been taught. She advised that I tell no one about my skills." Rowena takes everything in with patience. When he finishes her eyes close and she grimaces, bringing a palm to her forehead. The witch breathes in and out before fixing her gaze back on Harry, jaw tight.

"And she offered to tutor me if I have anything I want to learn that she knows." Rowena nods, taking a few more seconds to think.

"So. There is nothing a wizard of your current knowledge can do to erase her memories and if she recognises your skill she has it herself this means she might have connections to the people after me. If anyone else asks you just say your family friend taught you- most people don't care enough to ask more questions. Her advice is good but I don't think you should trust her either. What does she teach?"

"Transfiguration." Harry replies. The witch frowns.

"In that case I would suggest you take the extra lessons because that was never my strong point. Would you like to practise it now?" The boy smiles.

"I would- thank you Auntie Rowena." The space around them changes into a stone walled room, wooden desks and chairs spaced evenly throughout it. A matchstick, a feather and Harry's wand are on the desk in front of Harry. Rowena looks at the wand in mild disgust, picking it up between two fingers and scanning it intently.

"You might want to try without using this thing. If you use it too much you might get too used to it and not be able to control your magic so well without it." She drops it back to the table. For a second Harry looks at it then nods.

"Okay." He wraps his magic around the matchstick, surprised at it's easy response. In almost no time a perfect needle sits on the tabletop, no lingering threads of magic. He definitely shouldn't use his wand if results like this happen outside his dreams too. With a light tug the needle returns to its original form. He tries several more times in case it was a fluke. Rowena observes curiously.

He tries with the feather too and the results are the same. He doesn't know why he didn't try it earlier actually- obviously it would be easier for him to use his own magic rather than directing it through a wand because that's what he is more practised at.

"Is your transfiguration limited to turning one inanimate object into another?" Rowena asks. Harry turns to look at her, grinning.

"I don't know."


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did. 
> 
> I have decided to add some more crackish elements back in and speed up the storytelling because I'm starting a really intensive year long course next week and don't know how long I'll be able to keep all the balls in the air for~
> 
> Also guess the hidden object in this chapter- whoever guesses correct first can have a cameo :) I don't think it's too hard but I'm the one who wrote it~

The morning dawns brightly through the window. Ron is still in bed, trying to ignore the fact he has to get up. The other boys are in a similar state, bemoaning the sun's rise.

Harry finally sets up the magic to locate the Philosopher's Stone. Hopefully.

Honestly he's just screening for any stones with magical power so it's probably going to be hit and miss but it's the best he can do.

The second day of school is uneventful aside from Harry seeing Professor Binns and immediately leaving the classroom. Nobody had been quite sure what to do, least of all Hermione Granger who just stared after him in confusion. Later Ron had told him he didn't miss anything but the rumour had spread through Hogwarts like wildfire causing the event now.

"Potter's afraid of ghosts!" Sneers Draco from behind Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville. Behind the boy stand his two cronies whose names Harry can't remember- something about fish maybe? Or was it cathedrals?

Hermione instantly begins lecturing him on not skipping classes again (Harry thinks it might be the ninth time today) whilst simultaneously correcting Draco's assumption. Ron just shouts the other boy down. When the din has quietened down Harry puts down his fork.

Neville shivers.

"My family can get rid of ghosts- why would I be afraid of them? Even _I_ know how to kill them."

"Harry- I don't think you can kill ghosts." States the voice of correctness. The boy shrugs.

"It's fairly easy actually- all you need to do is find the remains, salt them and burn them. I mean Hermione's right, they're already dead so you can't kill 'em again but it gets rid of them forever." Judging by Draco's response he doesn't believe him. Either way the Slytherin disappears for his own table after making his customary 'my father will hear about this' departure preceding speech.

The next day brings yet another boring Herbology class which Neville _really_ seems to be enjoying.

By comparison the second Transfiguration lesson is a lot more interesting despite the fact he has already perfected turning a matchstick into a needle. McGonagall relocates him to the back of the room where he can't put other students off. While he's sad to be moved from his friends it means he gets to practise his wandless transfiguration and confirm his suspicions. He's kind of concerned the woman might want to adopt him when he sees the pride on her face.

Charms was interesting too. The basics seem similar to what Auntie Rowena has taught him but the effects are much more precise and follow different magical pathways. The teacher was strange too. He was tiny, required to stand on a pile of books just to see over his desk. When he had reached Harry's name in the register he had tumbled off, landing amid a flurry of paper on the flagstone floor.

That evening there are reports that Peeves hasn't assaulted a student for the whole day and that Professor Binns hasn't turned up to lessons for the first time since he was still alive.

When Professor McGonagall calls Harry to a meeting that evening he is unsurprised by Dumbledore's tired gaze.

"If you could have at least waited until I had your godfather out of Azkaban it would have been a lot easier my boy. I'll have to find a supply teacher before anything else- I hope you understand." Harry nods.

"Yes sir. I understand. I'm sorry for the trouble." The Headmaster slowly smiles.

"I do have good news on that front though. It seems like we'll be able to get your godfather out of Azkaban within the month. Upon his release we would like to put him in specialist care until his mental state has been deemed safe but we hope that we will be able to reunite you both sooner rather than later." Harry smiles because he thinks it's what's expected.

"I can't wait to meet him but I don't really know much about him… Or my blood family." Dumbledore nods.

"Yes. Minerva told me- I gather that you would like to be tutored by her?" Harry grins.

"I would!" The Professor smiles at this although it is fleeting. The boy can't help but remember Rowena's warning. He doesn't think she is right but he will keep an eye on Professor McGonagall anyway.

"Then it shall be arranged. Pomona says you are finding her lessons uninteresting though- I assume this is due to your prior tuition too?" Again Harry nods.

"Yes- my teacher has been very thorough. There are some things I haven't been taught like Transfiguration and Charms is different from what I've been taught but it's easy enough to figure out. My family have helped with what Defence Against the Dark Arts seems to be too even though my teacher didn't teach me that. I think that Potions will be similar to what I have been taught as well." The Professor frowns but Dumbledore just smiles.

"Thank you for warning us, my boy. I believe that it is getting a little late however Minerva and I have much to discuss- would you be able to make your way back to your dorm room by yourself?" The boy stands, yawning a little.

"Yes. I think so. Thank you for telling me about my godfather." The Headmaster just nods as Harry leaves.

He fits in a few hours of sleep, without Rowena's tuition, before heading off to Astronomy which is just as pointless as he had predicted.

When he finally gets around to it his training with Rowena is focused on Transfiguration again.

"Any news on the stone yet?" The woman asks, watching as Harry turns a chair into a metal bowl for the umpteenth time that session.

"No. I haven't felt anything yet- I'll make sure to get it though!" It turns back into a chair then into an ironing board.

"Anyone giving you any hassle?" Chair, ruby.

"No Auntie Rowena. I don't think the people here are very good at magic at my age." Chair, rock, chair.

"You're a born natural, my wee lad." Rowena smiles. Origami crane, chair.

"You taught me almost everything I know though." The older witch smiles at that too. Ring, chair.

"There's a lot more left for me to teach." Harry pauses for a second.

"Yeah- do you think I'll ever be as good as you?" Oar, chair, fork, chair.

"Let's not focus on things like that- after all, the limits of your magic are the limits of your imagination." The boy nods, considering the wooden chair.

"So you think I could?" Rowena purses her lips. The witch sits on the edge of a table, looking away from Harry. He waits.

"Yes." The woman answers. She crosses one leg over the other, voice quiet and somewhat bitter.

Elastic band, chair, rag, chair. Neither of them speak. Ink pot, chair, shield, chair.

"I'm sorry." Rowena nods. Earring, chair, domino.

"I think that we should end this session here." She says, standing and brushing off imaginary dust. Chair.

"Okay. Thank you, Auntie Rowena." The witch smiles slightly before leaving Harry to his dreams.

The next day brings his second Charms lesson. Professor Flitwick doesn't fall off his chair this time. Harry realises that chairs look really weird to him after the amount of times he transfigured them in his dream the night before.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did. So I've decided to post chapters every other week now because the course I'm going on is very intense. The next chapter will be posted on the 18th of September.
> 
> And I come bearing some clues for the hidden object in the last chapter because no one's found it yet. The first is that it is hidden across words and the second is that those words are contained in Harry's session with Rowena. Good luck~

When Harry gets to transfiguration he is again sat at the back of the class. This time McGonagall gives him a piece of parchment with what she wants him to do written in surprisingly legible (for a Professor) handwriting. While he sets about reading the tasks everybody else takes notes from the Professor's lecture. It seems that most people have had even a limited amount of success in turning a matchstick into a needle.

The Professor hands out matchsticks to those who have yet to complete the transfiguration and to the remaining few including Hermione, a boy in Gryffindor who Harry can't quite remember the name of and a girl in Hufflepuff who Harry thinks for a second is too young to be at Hogwarts. She gives them theory work to do to consolidate their learning before writing the homework on the board to many people's muffled groans.

Finally she does her rounds of the tables and gives Harry his materials.

"If you could please attempt each Transfiguration on this list once so I can asses where your skills are. After this lesson if you could instead go to my office for each lesson so that I do not have to be distracted from others in this class." She then leaves him to his list and goes to check on several students who are struggling more than the others. Harry notices Ron that Neville and Ron are two of the first and resolves to bring up the issues of their wands with them later.

The Transfigurations start off easy. The first is matchstick into needle which barely takes any thought now, the second is feather into stone which takes less than a second of focus and the third is to transfigure a button into a spoon.

Harry spends significantly longer on the rest afterwards, managing to get about a third of the way through the list before the lesson ends. He is halfway through attempting to change a snail into teapot. Ron, Neville and Hermione wait for him, Ron muttering about having too much homework and Hermione berating him for dismissing its importance.

McGonagall looks over his attempts then nods.

"You may leave, Mr Potter. I will give feedback on your work in our next lesson. Your homework is to write a detailed report on each separate transfiguration you have completed this lesson." Harry nods, tucking the parchment into his bag and joining his friends.

"I don't know how you do it mate! I wish I was half as good as you are at this at anything!" Ron whines. Hermione frowns.

"It's because he works hard and is naturally very talented Ron. If you work as hard as you can maybe one day you can do all that too." She turns to Harry then with a slight smile, "It is really cool though- I'll have to work really hard to catch up with you!" Neville smiles when Harry looks to him but says nothing.

The four finally leave the room to grab some lunch. Hermione has a notebook next to her and is drafting out their essay on the basics of Transfiguration and how they apply to the matchstick to needle transfiguration they'd been practicing. She takes care to sit next to Neville instead of Ron and keep the book on her lap while she distractedly eats her own food.

"What's that?" Asks Neville, looking curiously at her pen and paper. The Muggle-born looks up in confusion, eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean?" Neville swallows another bite of his fish and points to the pen.

"What is it? I've never seen anything like that. The book too, its pages all look the same and they're a lot cleaner looking than parchment." Hermione's face clears as if she just realised something.

"Oh! These are a pen and a notebook. It's Muggle parchment and quills and a lot easier to carry around. The pen is like a quill but it comes with ink in it so you don't need an ink bottle and the notebook is more compact than parchment because the pages are thinner. I prefer it because I'm not used to writing with a quill." She passes them to Neville who inspects them curiously.

"My dad's really interested in Muggle things- even has a job in it- maybe he could talk to you at some point? He's got lots of Muggle things but he doesn't know how to use most of them." The girl blushes slightly.

"I'm sure if he's a professional he doesn't need my help but I wouldn't mind if he does." Ron grins, "Also you shouldn't speak with food in your mouth. It's very rude." The ginger rolls his eyes.

"Yes mum."

The rest of their day is free so Hermione retreats to the library to research the homework she hasn't yet completed and the boys decide to introduce Harry to the various indoor wizarding games which they feel he's been missing out on.

The next morning brings Potions and a letter from his family with the morning mail. He brings drafting a reply in his head on the way to Potions. He's got so much to tell them and he should send the sweets he'd bought for them too. Harry hopes Hedwig will be okay with carrying everything all that way- he should buy some owl treats for her.

"No- you can't employ him! He'll endanger your students! He's a-" A figure covered in a cloak walks beside the Headmaster and an oddly tall fellow. The tall one turns to face them as he passes in front of their corridor. His eyes are strangely coloured and he smiles calmly before turning away again, seemingly unbothered by the cloaked figure's rant.

"What was that about?" Wonders Ron as they turn off down another corridor.

"Beats me." Says Neville, shrugging as he pushes open the door, "But I know I'm going to be awful at this."

As it turns out over the next two hours Neville _is_ awful at Potions.

That and he has Professor Snape's eternal hatred.

The room had been shocking enough with the chill of being down in the dungeons only emphasised by the pickled animals floating in glass jars on shelves around the room.

Snape had taken the register, pausing when he reached Harry's name and tilting his head up dangerously to observe him.

"Ah, yes," He said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new- _celebrity_." Some of the Slytherins had sniggered at that and the Professor had continued on with the register, looking up again only when he had finished.

His eyes were black- or at least Harry _thinks_ they were but it could have just been the light. For some odd reason he draws Auntie Rowena to Harry's mind.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," The man had started, his voice only just loud enough to not be called a whisper. Nobody spoke, "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…" Again the reminder of Rowena. Harry wonders whether he is going mad because Rowena's eyes were not black and she had never spoke of the potions either of them had made with such passion.

"I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." The whole class is silent, everyone sitting back on their seats as if sensing the danger of their Professor and wanting to stay as far away as possible. All except the Slytherins, Harry and Hermione who seemed prepared to jump up and begin teaching the class herself.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.
> 
> Nobody's guessed what the object in the chapter before the last one is yet so here is my final clue: the object is hidden in the first letter of 19 objects with chairs between them.

"Potter!" Says the man suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" Harry thinks for a moment- he knows Rowena had covered this at some point.

"A strong sleeping potion." He says, picking the most commonly made potion from those ingredients and watching Hermione wave frantically. The Professor sneers. Maybe he should have chosen one of the more obscure ones?

"The actual name Potter?" Harry stares at him- did it actually have name? They always brewed a sleeping potion with it but Rowena had never given it a name.

"I don't know, sir. I don't usually name potions with anything except what they do." The Professor arches an eyebrow.

"Clearly fame isn't everything- let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Hermione is almost standing up but Snape takes no notice of her. He glances over to the Slytherins who seem to be laughing.

"In a goat's stomach." His Auntie had been rather insistent on him remembering this fact because of her lack of trust in people, "It saves people from most poisons." The Professor seems disappointed by his answer.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Hermione is standing up now, people's eyes split equally between himself, the Professor and her.

"There is none. It's very poisonous- isn't it called aconite too?" Snape frowns.

"Correct." He doesn't seem too pleased by that fact, "For you information, Potter, the sleeping potion asphodel and wormwood make is known as the Draught of Living Death." He turns around, cloak spinning dramatically behind him.

"Sit down." Hermione thumps down into her seat, "Why aren't you all writing that down?" Harry doesn't bother- there's not much point in writing it down as already knows it- well, most of it. There is a loud rustle as everyone searches for their parchment and quills and ink pots.

"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter." Then he had set them to the task of making boil curing potions.

Harry had been paired with Ron and the only thing which had prevented Neville's cauldron from melting had been Harry complete focus on his own potion. Their potion had been nearing completion when he noticed the change of smell from the one beside them.

He remembers making a similar mistake when he first brewed it and Rowena throwing in a cup of water to cool everything down to slow down the reactions. There isn't any water he could get into it in time so he wraps his magic around it and pulls the temperature down enough to compensate for the heat of the flame.

Aside from Snape's lecture on following instructions and further point deductions for something Harry doesn't quite understand but doesn't think is worth contesting the lesson ends rather calmly.

"I can't believe Snape took two points from you in your first lesson! Fred and George always lose points in his classes but they try to!" Ron grumbles about the point loss all the way to Gryffindor table.

"It's okay- Harry and Hermione will earn them back in other lessons." Neville smiles and Hermione frowns.

"I knew all the answers- why didn't he ask me?" Harry shrugs.

"Beats me. I don't think he likes me." Ron nods, taking a break from eating.

"Just ignore him- he doesn't like anyone in Gryffindor." The rest of the day is spent in the common room and in part in the library at Hermione's prompting. Ron is rather displeased but tags along rather than be left alone.

So passes the first week of lessons.

Harry attends his first Transfiguration lesson in Professor McGonagall's office on Monday morning. He feels a bit silly waiting alone outside her door and wonders how the Professor is planning to go to her office and be in the lesson with everyone else at the same time.

Sure enough she opens the door on time, ushering him in and closing it behind them.

"I trust that you have the homework Mr Potter." Harry nods, pulling the parchment out of his bag and passing it over. The Professor files it in a drawer on the other side of her desk and sits down. The boy takes a seat opposite and the lesson begins.

"Your transfigurations were all surprisingly insightful had you been an ordinary first year. I expect this comes from our shared knowledge and a large amount of practise. The first few were complete transfigurations- the quality of which would be expected from an average third year at most.

The further you went down the list the more you struggled as you obviously had not practised them and although the physical form was indiscernible from the real object the magical form was poor and unlikely to be maintained for very long. As soon as sentient to non-sentient object transfiguration came up you became completely unable to perform any changes which is expected from any student of your age as without the theory it is almost impossible to grasp the complexities of that kind of transfiguration.

Your performance was admirable and for that you may have one point for Gryffindor. Today I will teach you the theory of sentient to non-sentient transfiguration and at the end of the lesson you will attempt one." Harry nods, pleased with his feedback and eager to learn more. The Professor promptly begins her lecture and Harry takes as many notes as he can, forgetting the time until McGonagall places a snail in front of him.

"Using what you have learned this lesson please attempt to transfigure this snail into a teapot." The snail crawls sluggishly across the wooden desk, eyes stretching out as it moves. Harry lets his magic loop and curl over the shell and under the snail's foot. Slowly the snail becomes a rough brown teapot. The shell's pattern showing still on the body of the teapot, dull and quite unlike what Harry had hoped for. The Professor cancels the transfiguration after a second.

"I notice you have forgone your wand for the transfiguration- is there a reason for this Mr Potter?" Harry nods.

"My wand is harder to use because I'm not used to it." Professor McGongall frowns.

"Please try again using your wand." He does. The snail remains unchanged except the shell growing slightly and the snail freezing completely. The Professor requests his wand and he passes it over curiously. She inspects it with a grave expression.

"It is the wand which chose you, correct?" Harry nods, "No wizard has ever had issues with their wand unless they have had a great change of heart. I would like to have your wand analysed as soon as possible because such a reaction is unheard of. Even though you are clearly proficient in wandless magic- something again which is hard for even the most competent of students to learn during their entire time at Hogwarts- your wand should always be easier to use to focus your magic than yourself. If I were able to make an appointment with Mr Ollivander would you mind letting him analyse your wand?" The boy nods, unsure what else to say. Rowena had told him he outclassed most people here and he knows now that this is true but it doesn't bring him the satisfaction is always seemed to give her.

It is only when he is halfway to his next lesson that Harry remembers he still doesn't know how McGonagall made it to both his and everyone else's lesson.

The rest of the day is simple enough but Harry can't concentrate properly, wondering about how the Professor was in two places at once and about his Auntie. He resolves that tonight he will talk to her rather than focus on magic when he was already so far ahead.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

The room is dark today. The chill seems to permeate even into the dying fireplace which cracks occasionally.

"Rowena?" Harry calls out into the mindscape. Something rustles and the boy turns, eyes searching in the gloom for some glimpse of a bright colour. The fire crackles again, spitting a tiny piece of red coal onto the flagstones.

"Auntie?" Harry stares into the dimness, "Are you okay?" There is no sound this time. Harry shifts, imagines more wood for the fire and builds it up again. When flames are eating through wood the room seems a little warmer.

The boy turns, searching the much brighter room.

"Harry." The voice is quiet but Harry hears it. In the corner of the room sits Rowena. He steps closer, frowning.

"You're wearing black." It isn't what he means to say first but it shocks him strangely enough. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen her wearing black- not that he really believes that. Surely she must have at some point?

"I am." The witch takes a deep breath and stands. Her voice hitches oddly.

"Are you okay Auntie Rowena?" They both stay where they are.

"Yes. I'm fine my boy. What are you asking such questions-" Rowena attempts to maintain a sense of normality. The words come out rushed, her voice running out before she can finish. The older witch's face crumples momentarily.

"For?" She completes the sentence and looks away, chin raised defiantly. Harry walks forwards, stopping when he is only meters away from her.

"Auntie Rowena?" The witch gasps, turning further away. The boy's frown deepens.

"What's wrong?" Harry is almost certain that the woman is crying.

He stands for a moment, unsure, then wraps his arms around her waist. The witch sobs quietly, turning and curling her own arms around Harry...

"The people who were after me made me kill someone I love." Rowena's voice is almost hollow after the tears. Harry pours some tea, knows that although drinking in dreams doesn't really have any use the gesture will help calm his teacher.

"I'm sorry." He says. The witch takes her tea almost robotically.

"It helped me escape." She frowns, seeming more like herself as she wraps nonchalance around her as if it were a shield, "I wouldn't have escaped if I hadn't killed him." Rowena sips at her tea, straightening slightly.

"But you care." The witch sighs.

"Yes. I do." She places the tea on an end table beside her chair.

That night Harry learns of Rowena's childhood.

"I am Tim. I will be your teacher for the rest of the year." The man with the strange eyes says when everyone turns up to History of Magic the next day.

Hermione instantly throws her arm into the air. Tim watches her blankly for a moment, confusion flickering over his face.

"Your hand is in the air." The girl takes this as his permission to speak.

"Don't you mean Professor Tim? Students are meant to call teachers by Professor and their last name." The Professor stares at her and pauses.

"Yes." He says, as if he doesn't know what the word means, "Now we should begin the lesson. All lessons will be taught one by one. You may all leave except you." Professor Tim points to a short boy from Ravenclaw. The boy holds his head high.

"Thank you Professor." Everyone else in Ravenclaw and a number of Gryffindors (including Hermione) complain.

"You will all get turn!" Says the Professor, eyes narrowing. He points randomly.

"One by one- you will teach others what you learn." Summarily everyone except James the small Ravenclaw gains a few free hours. Ron celebrates and disappears with the majority of the first year Gryffindors to play the largest game of Gobstones Hogwarts has ever seen. Hermione stomps off to the library to study, upset by the injustice of the new Professor's teaching methods.

Neville looks at Harry.

"I think Hermione's idea might be best." Neville says, shrugging, "I mean we don't know how well James will take notes." Harry nods.

"Yeah, I have a letter to write anyway." The two boys join Hermione in the library. The girl has already pulled three books from the shelves and is busy making notes from the first when they find her.

"Mind if I take this?" Neville asks, laying his hand on the second. Hermione looks up briefly and smiles.

"Yes. I'm glad to see someone is taking their education seriously." The boy blushes a little, nodding and pulling out his parchment, quill and ink.

Harry begins composing his letter.

_Dear mom, Claire, Alex, Uncle Dean, Uncle Sam and Castiel,_

_I hope you are okay. I'm having a great time at Hogwarts- I've even started separate lessons because I'm really good at some things. I've bought some food for you to try too- I hope you like it!_

_I've made three friends already. They're called Hermione, Ron and Neville. Hermione is hard-working and really likes learning, at the moment she is studying in the library because one of our teachers wants to teach one student at a time and she wants to make sure she knows everything she can before exams. Her parents are dentists._

_Ron's whole family can do magic too-he isn't in the library with Hermione, Neville and I- he's playing Gobstones with everyone else who doesn't have lessons. It's a game where you throw balls filled with dirty water at another smaller ball and you have to get them as close to the small one as you can or they explode. Hermione has to force him to work or he won't get things done- he's a good person though. He eats like Dean._

_Neville is nice too. He was really nervous when I first met him but he's getting better now he has friends. He has a pet toad which keeps escaping and I think it might be ill- I haven't seen it for a while actually. He works hard too._

_The Professors are mostly good and the teacher from Transfiguration is teaching me private lessons because she says I'm good at it. She taught my blood mom and dad so she's been telling me about them. I have a Godfather too- he was framed for something he didn't do but I might get to meet him soon._

_Whatever happens I'll always love you guys though!_

_Oh- and my Transfiguration professor wants to have a meeting with you. Apparently they don't have my move on their records._

_I have another friend too who had something awful happen to her recently. She told me about her past because of it and it was really sad. I don't know how to help her- she's even been helping me with my magic and I've said I'll help her with a spell she's struggling with in return but I don't know what I can do because we're in different houses and people don't like us talking to each other. I don't know if you know how I can help her but I want to if I can._

_Love Harry_

Harry says goodbye to Hermione and Neville. Hermione is giving Neville a quiet lecture on what she has read from the first book and the boy is diligently takings notes.

Harry seals his envelope shut and heads off for the Gryffindor common room.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did.

It takes him about fifteen minutes to find his way back to the common room- more time than it takes him to reverse the size altering spell and package the sweets up along with the envelope.

Hedwig takes the package happily (or at least from what Harry can tell) and flies off with an affectionate nip of his fingers. He hopes his mom will treat her for the message because he knows how much she likes bacon.

Hedwig arrives on Thursday morning, swooping down amid the plates and perching on the top of Harry's chair. She holds out her leg expectantly and the boy unties the letters, giving her a thick slice of bacon for her efforts. The owl pecks at the food in his hand, carefully avoiding his skin. Harry opens the letter addressed to him with his other hand.

_Dear Harry,_

_We're all glad you're happy- your friends sound like good people but be careful okay?_

_I'm not sure about this Godfather. Sometimes people who claim to be innocent and are still imprisoned still committed the crime. I want to be there just in case when you meet him._

_It's great you're enjoying your lessons. I'll set up a meeting as soon as possible, that's why I've given you the other letter. Give that one to your teacher._

_I'm sorry about your friend. I don't think there's anything you can do but be there for her and help her. Who cares that you're in different houses- you do what you think is best kid._

_Love Mom, Claire and Alex._

Harry tucks both letters inside his bag and Hedwig flies off, certain that her mail has been received. His Transfiguration lesson is second so he can give Professor McGonagall her letter then.

A barn owl flies away from Neville who unwraps a small package curiously. A large marble filled with smoke lies nestled among the brown paper. The boy frowns.

"It's a Remembrall." He says, picking the glass ball up.

"If you hold it tightly like this and you've forgotten something it turns red." The Remembrall glows a deep red in his palm, the light shining through Neville's fingers.

"So that means I've forgotten something." Ron pats him on the back.

"Bad luck mate." Hermione leans over, eyes narrowing at the glass ball.

"That can't be very useful- you could have forgotten anything. I hope it wasn't important." The girl frowns. A hand reaches over and plucks the Remembrall from Neville's hand. Ron is standing before Harry even realises that it's the blonde kid.

"What's going on?" Professor McGonagall appears behind them. Neville blinks up at her confusedly.

"Oh- Malfoy's got my Remembrall." He says calmly. The Slytherin scowls, quickly dropping the ball back onto their table.

"Just looking." He snaps, retreating with his bodyguards.

The encounter is soon forgotten with both Hermione and Neville's panic about their flying lesson later that day and Ron's assumption that he'll be good at it.

Harry passes his transfiguration teacher the letter as soon as he reaches her office. She reads it and nods, pulling out a small piece of parchment and dipping her quill into an open ink pot.

"I hope that your mother will not mind me seeing her in three days." The boy can't help but smile.

"No. She won't." He pauses then and thinks, "But her job means she's on call a lot of the time so if she misses an appointment it's because she's helping someone." McGonagall frowns but says nothing.

She writes for a while longer, quill flicking through the air. Finally she finishes, folds the parchment in half and tucks it inside an envelope.

"Be sure that this gets to your mother as soon as possible, Mr. Potter." She says, putting a cork back in her ink pot and blotting her quill. She picks up a wand and mutters a quick spell. The remaining ink slides off, pooling on the blotting pad.

"Can you show me that spell again?" Harry asks, placing the envelope carefully between two books so he wouldn't crumple it. The Professor nods.

"Of course. Basic quill cleaning prevents blotting while you are writing so it makes it easier for professors to mark your work. I will make sure to teach everyone else next lesson because some of your peers penmanship is appalling." She casts the spell again and Harry watches closely how the magic loops around the quill. The amount of ink that comes off of his own quill when he tries it is quite surprising.

"Now we shall begin the lesson." She places a snail on the table and by the end of the lesson it has become a full sized, red and gold teapot twice.

"If you could practise this spell and research the avifors spell as I will cover this spell with you soon. I expect at least fifteen inches of parchment on your research by Monday. Next lesson you will learn the theory behind transfiguring an inanimate into an animate object so your research may not make much sense until after then." Harry nods and is shown out.

He quickly takes the letter to Hedwig along with some owl treats. The owl accepts both before flying off again. Harry wonders if magical owls are different to normal ones because he is sure there isn't any bird that could travel so far and as fast as Hedwig and not be tired.

The boy joins Ron, Neville and Hermione for lunch. Hermione is reading a volume of Flying for Beginners with no food in sight and Neville is pushing his food around worriedly.

"I think Hermione's forgot it's lunch." Says Ron as Harry sits down, "All she's been doing is reading that book." The girl looks up briefly at the mention of her name but obviously deems the situation less important them attempting to learn how to fly through reading.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks. Neville looks up from his food, face pale and Hermione mumbles out something dismissive under her breath.

"I think I'm going to throw up before I even get on a broom." Neville groans.

At three- thirty that afternoon all the first-year Gryffindors hurry down the first steps and into the ground for their first flying lesson. The sky is clear but breezy. In the distance the Forbidden Forest sways- Harry hopes the werewolf rumours aren't true. Mom would not be pleased with him staying so close to the monsters.

The Slytherins are already down there with a long line of broomsticks. Harry had heard from Fred and George that the school brooms were faulty. He hopes his isn't too bad.

Their teacher swoops down the field, scowling. Her short, grey hair sticks out oddly and with her yellow eyes Harry thinks she looks a lot like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick," The Slytherins stand up and everyone starts for the brooms, "Come on, hurry up." Harry hurries to the closest broom. It looks old and worn. Some of the twigs stuck out at strange angles. Hermione stands several brooms down, frowning at hers. She quickly bends down and straightens the bristles out while everyone is gathering.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say, 'Up!'" shouts the Professor from the front of the field. Everyone holds their hands out, some much quicker to obey than others.

"Up!" Shouts the class as one.

Harry's broomstick jumps up into his hand before he can even blink. He looks around curiously. Most other people's hasn't. Hermione's is slightly more to the left of her now and Neville's doesn't seem to have moved. Harry wonders if this was a type of magic that only really works when you want it to.

When everybody's broom is in the air Madam Hooch gives a demonstration of how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end. She walks up and down the rows, correcting people's grips. The blonde boy is told that he's been doing it wrong for years and glares at Harry. Ron is grinning when Harry looks back at him and Harry realises that the blonde must have been scowling at him instead.

The teacher goes back to the front and raises her whistle to her lips.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," She says. There are a few nods at this. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle- three- two-" The whistle doesn't reach Madam Hooch's lips. Neville shoots off into the air, clearly terrified.

"Come back, boy!" Shouts the Professor, dropping the whistle and reaching for the broom she'd used for the demonstration. He continues rising and Harry watches in horror as he goes faster and faster and higher and higher.

All Harry can think is that a fall from that height would kill anyone.

He begins to weave together a net of magic, moving towards his friend and casting faster than ever before because the Professor still has only just grabbed her broom.

Neville looks at the ground slipping away from him and manages to pale further than he was already. Harry sees the boy's grip falter and throws all the magic he can into his spell.

Neville slips sideways off the broom and starts to fall. Harry points at Neville, locking the magic onto him and lets it loose.

Madam Hooch is in the air but the boy is so close to the ground now that a school broom could never close the distance in time.

Harry's magic wraps around Neville and the boy stops mere inches from the floor, shaking in fear.

Everyone freezes in shock but Harry keeps moving forwards, unsure how long such an improvised spell would last. He grabs the boy's hand and pulls him up. The teacher reaches them on her broom and helps Harry, grabbing the other hand. Neville grips tightly, nails digging into Harry's arm as they lift him. Harry disperse the spell and they lower him carefully to the floor.

His broomstick is far out of sight by now.

It takes him a moment to realise as he looks down on Neville that he is on his broom too.

Madam Hooch has dismounted and pulled out her wand. Her face is almost as pale as Neville's.

"Just shock." She mutters, scanning over him. The Professor looks up at Harry strangely.

"Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get." She says, still holding Neville's hand, "Please wait behind after class so I can have a talk with you." She directs this part to Harry. When Neville has managed to get to his feet Professor Hooch turns to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear." Neville follows her, seeming to be on the verge of passing out. The Professor pretty much has to hold him up.

Harry finally lands his broom and dismounts next to everyone else.

There is silence until the Professor is out of earshot.

The blonde- Malfoy, Harry finally remembers- bursts into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" Most of the other Slytherins join in. Harry thinks that if Neville actually had been harmed the boy wouldn't find it anywhere near as funny.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Snaps a Slytherin girl, obviously still recovering from the shock. Harry had a feeling she was in Ravenclaw but he must have been wrong. He shoots her a sympathetic look as a pug-faced girl also in Slytherin colours insults her.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom? Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry babies, Parvati." Parvati seems about to respond before Malfoy darts forwards.

"Look!" He says, snatching something out of the glass with a nasty smile, "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall seems to glitter in the sun as the blonde holds it up.

"Um- I think Neville might want that back." Says Harry because it seems like the right thing to do. Neville didn't seem _too_ thrilled at getting it but he expects his gran would be upset if it was stolen. The boy grins, focusing on Harry.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect- how about- up a tree?" The kid laps for his broom stick and takes off. Harry watches as the boy flies back and forth- he thinks it's supposed to be a taunt. He does fly well though.

He hovers around the top of an oak tree and raises the hand not holding the Remembrall to his mouth.

"Come and get it, Potter!" He calls out. Harry calls back.

"But he didn't seem _that_ happy to get it!" The Gryffindors laugh and Malfoy scowls.

"Yeah," Shouts Ron with a huge grin on his face, "What's the point Malfoy!" The boy brings his arm back and throws as far as he can in the direction of the forest.

Harry waits until it's too far for anyone to see and discretely casts a summoning spell. He lets it fly off after its target.

Some of the Slytherins laugh but a slightly smaller number glance around unsurely, either not finding it funny because the Gryffindors haven't reacted or just because it wasn't really that funny.

"DRACO MALFOY! GET DOWN HERE AT ONCE!" Professor McGongall is running towards them, furious. A paler than usual Malfoy starts to descend. Suddenly he is knocked sideways, shock clear on his face. Reflexively the Professor casts the floating spell and lowers the boy to the floor.

Harry pretends to be shocked when the Remembrall forces its way into his hand like a dog looking for food.

"Potter!" Roars the blonde when both his feet are on the floor. Harry looks to McGonagall who is hiding a smirk.

"Maybe you should have thought about what spells someone might have cast on a present for a specific person before trying to take it. Have you met Neville's grandmother?" She half-explains, letting everyone come to their own conclusions.

"Regardless I came out here because I heard one of my Gryffindors had been hurt in a flying accident and what do I find but _you_ flying around without a care in the world! Professor Snape will be most displeased when he hears of your foolish behaviour and I expect Madam Hooch will have words for you! As it is I am taking ten points from Slytherin for your behaviour and you will serve a detention with me tomorrow evening." The pale boy looks about to complain but merely nods.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill.

The rest of the lesson is spent in silence as Professor McGonagall quickly takes them through the basics of flying. By the time the lesson has finished and everything has been packed away Neville and Madame Hooch are just returning from the hospital wing.

"Are you okay Neville?" Hermione asks worriedly. The boy smiles awkwardly.

"Yeah- I wasn't hurt in the first place so Madame Pomfrey just gave me some Calming Draught and made me wait for half an hour to leave. I feel a bit silly now- Madame Hooch says if I had just stayed calm I would have been fine." Ron pats him on the back.

"That's alright mate- first time nerves, everyone gets them. You should have seen Hermione!"

"Ronald!" The girl shouts furiously.

"Draco Malfoy- what do you think you are doing!" Shouts Professor McGonagall at almost the same time.

Everyone turns to look at Malfoy who had been trying to sneak away while both Professors were distracted. The boy blushes and slopes back to the teachers.

"Well- what are you looking at? Lesson's over." Says Madame Hooch firmly. Slowly the mass of children troop back to the castle. Harry hands back the Remembrall and Neville looks at it curiously before slipping it into his pocket.

"Thanks Harry."

As soon as they are out of earshot of either teacher Ron starts telling Neville about Malfoy getting caught flying.

"And he fell right off his broom!" The boy laughs as they find seats in the Great Hall, "It hit him right in the face!" Neville smiles distractedly, filling his plate. Hermione frowns disapprovingly.

"I know he's a horrible person but that doesn't mean you should make fun of him, Ronald." She lectures. Ron rolls his eyes, stabbing his fork into a sausage.

"You're not my mum." Hermione flushes angrily and turns away.

"Good because I'd hate to have a son as awful as you." Ron grits his teeth and turns away too. Neville looks at Harry helplessly who looks between the two friends, equally lost.

"Lost your brain Potter? Bet that's why you summoned the Remembrall- it's about the same size." The blonde from earlier appears with his two goons.

"I didn't summon it- Professor McGonagall said that Neville's grandma probably put a spell on it, remember?" Says Harry, hoping to distract him from the truth. Malfoy only gets angrier.

"We all know it was you! You were too chicken to fly without any teachers though- obviously you're a teacher's pet." The boy taunts.

"No he isn't!" Shouts Ron as Harry tries to come up with something more convincing to hide that he already knew summoning magic. Malfoy sneers.

"I'll take him on in a Wizard's duel then! Wands only- no contact." Harry stares at him blankly- does he really think he could take him on? "What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?" Harry sighs.

"I'm not fighting you Malfoy."

"Yeah- you're way too weak for Harry to even bother!" Says Ron, spooning some more mash onto his plate.

"It's not that-" Responds Harry diplomatically. The blonde goes paler, teeth clenched.

"Obviously you're scared of me!" Frankly Harry can't believe that anyone would be scared of Malfoy and is about to refuse again when Rowena comes unbidden to his mind.

" _Sometimes, my wee lad, you have to just let people fail so they know where their place is. It's a harsh lesson but you know the difference between the two herbs now, don't you?" The momentary shock of the pain has already disappeared- Rowena saw to that even though they were in a dream state, teaching him the healing salve that would counteract the real life effects of the plant- and Harry nods._

"Okay," The dark-haired boy sighs, "I'll have a duel with you." The blonde sneers again.

"Midnight in the trophy room. Bring as many people as you want to watch you get defeated." The boy leaves, his goons trailing behind him emotionlessly, one of them cracking his fist in his palm before following their leader.

"You are not going to duel Malfoy." Says Hermione at the same time Ron says,

"I want to watch you beat up Malfoy." Both end up arguing and Neville sighs.

"Are you really going to fight him, Harry?" Harry just looks at the boy who nods.

"Be careful." He says quietly and the green eyed boy nods back.

"I'll go easy on him."

That night he talks tactics with Rowena. The older which is both proud of Harry and worried.

"Make sure that you don't do _anything_ that they can prove was you and that you cover your tracks well. It's even more important in an environment which is as heavily warded as Hogwarts is- be absolutely certain you won't get caught." She stresses to him until it's time for him to wake up again.

"Don't get hurt, Harry." The sentiment is less than a whisper but Harry hears it and nods.

"I won't Auntie Rowena." Rowena smiles at him, eyes crinkling in pride. Harry wakes and immediately places a sleeping spell over both the waiting and sleeping members of his dorm. He hears Ron's head hit his pillow.

He creeps down the stairs, invisibility and silencing charms concealing him from Hermione's watching eyes as he walks past her. She drops off too as the sleeping charm hits her. Harry sidles out of the portrait hole before the weak spell he had placed on her breaks.

He casually strolls down the corridor, feeling out for a powerful stone with less of the interference of people in the way. He feels nothing all the way to the trophy room.

He waits for Malfoy, sitting on top of a display case. He expected that the boy would already be there but the blonde is nowhere to be seen. Mrs Norris and Filch pop by about ten minutes after he sits down.

Mrs Norris sniffs cautiously, nose to the ground. Harry half wonders what the strange cat is doing until he realises that he hadn't cast a scentless spell- in fact he couldn't remember how.

The cat comes closer and closer and Harry cycles through ideas, eventually discarding them in favour of running as the caretaker pushes the door open and Mrs Norris begins yowling.

"You've found them, my sweet! He said they would be here!" Harry races to the other end of the room, cat and grumpy man in pursuit. He swings through a doorway, running wherever his feet take him.

He's presuming that Malfoy wouldn't be coming.

He races down corridor after corridor, completely oblivious to where he is. He can hear the cat, effortlessly keeping pace with him despite the fact her human is trailing far behind, cursing in rage. He runs through some kind of curtain, sealing the ends together when he's passed through. As he comes out the end of a tunnel he hears Filch shouting angrily, stopped by the curtain. The cat is still yowling beside him.

Harry hears the rip of fabric and guesses that he has seconds before the man reaches him.

The cat falls asleep instantly and Harry dashes through to the end of the corridor and through a momentarily unlocked door.

He turns around, casting a small light to see by so he can catch his bearings. A three headed dog growls at him and Harry acts on reflex. The dog collapses to the floor.

It's then that Harry feels the pull on his magic.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know

Harry hovers the dog out of the way and follows the pull down through a trap door. A quick light spell helps him see into the gloom.

The drop is far enough to require a slight cushioning charm. A small stone passageway leads off and Harry casts a quick warming spell around himself to keep off the chill, wandering if Hogwarts had some kind of magical central heating for the used parts of the castle.

The walk isn't long but the next room is suffocatingly dark, even when he amps up his light spell by enough he can just see to the corners of the room and the ceiling is far from view. Several broomsticks are propped up against a wall next to a heavy locked door.

Harry looks at the lock, knowing that they would have some kind of heavy warding on something of such power.

The mesh of lines is so thick that the door is completely hidden, never mind the keyhole. The ends of the spells sink into the walls, anchoring the new lock deep into the ancient magic running throughout Hogwarts. The magic comes from a different source though, distinctly human and quite old compared to the majority of the people around him. It doesn't touch Rowena's age but it's on the higher end of the scale.

Harry memorises the mechanisms as much as he can, tries to see every layer of spell craft and seal it in his mind.

When he has remembered as much as he can he leaves, carefully shutting the trap door and replacing the basic lock on the door to the corridor before he wakes up the three-headed dog, safely on the other side.

The cat is gone and Harry settles his slightly improved anti-detection charm around his shoulders before scampering back to bed and pulling the curtains tight around the bed-posts.

Rowena smiles at the news and gladly takes the information from his head. She ruffles his hair proudly.

"I think you've done more than enough for today Harry. I'll sort through this and have an answer for you tomorrow evening- make sure to have a good rest and we'll begin practise for the real thing tomorrow!" Her eyes crinkle as she lifts his chin.

"You're a good lad- a clever lad." The woman disappears shortly and Harry slips into a real dream for the first time in months.

Hermione looks at Harry oddly the next morning.

"Are you alright Harry? You look a little… tired." She says, cutting through the first sausage on her plate. The boy frowns, silent for a few moments before he picks up a slice of toast and butters it.

"It was just so strange." Neville peers at the tired boy too.

"What was strange?" Harry gazes over the toast, staring into the distance.

"Dreaming." He takes a bite and chews mechanically. Ron laughs.

"You had a weird dream? I once had a dream my sister was dating the Giant Squid- can't get weirder than that!" Neville makes a disgusted face and Hermione determinedly ignores the boy.

"What happened in it?" Harry grimaces and swallows his toast.

"It was just really weird. I was swimming and there was someone else swimming and we were in a race but they were slowing down so we could win together then a girl fell out of a helicopter and into the water."

"Helicopter- what's th-"

"And then she turned into a shark and ate the finish line and the other person."

Neville looks slightly pale and Hermione purses her lips.

"Oh." She puts down the last piece of sausage and stares at it for several seconds, "Dreams are weird, aren't they?" Neville nods and the girl snaps out of her shock.

"A helicopter is something muggles use to fly relatively short distances- they're like a small room that can fly." Ron seems amazed and puts down his food long enough to listen to the small lecture Hermione gives on muggle transport.

Two days later Harry is resting in bed, mentally unwinding and redoing the warding on the door inside the chamber of the forbidden corridor when Ron dashes into the room.

"McGonagall wants you- she says to come quickly." Harry practises closing up the spell work again so that he won't forget to with the real thing and springs from his bed with a grin.

"My mom's visiting today." Ron seems confused.

"What? Why would your mum be-" The door slams shut as the boy races excitedly to the transfiguration professor's office. He knocks and stands outside impatiently, grinning.

It takes four seconds for the door to open. He counts them and is in before the professor is half way through 'come in'.

"Hi mom!" He smiles as both Jodi and McGonagall stand up. Both of them seem at ease and Harry hugs his mom.

"I've missed you and everybody." Jodi laughs and hugs him back, pressing a kiss against his head.

"Good to see you too kiddo- the house has been too quiet without you. Claire and Alex said thanks for the sweets." She rubs a hand over his back and Harry steps back again.

"Good morning Professor McGonagall." The professor smiles.

"I thought you would like to see your mother before she leaves again Mr. Potter." The boy nods, unable to keep himself from grinning even more.

"Thank you Professor." Then to his mom, "How long are you staying for?" Jodi looks to the witch with raised eyebrows who looks at an old fashioned wristwatch.

"I think you will be able to stay for another half an hour or so. If you like I can accompany you." The sheriff looks down at Harry and laughs.

"I don't think that'll be needed. Thank you for the coffee Minerva, I'll pop back before I leave." So the witch nods and Harry drags Jodi around the school to introduce her to his friends. Neville smiles politely and Ron looks at her confusedly.

"Are you Harry's muggle mum?" The woman looks to Harry with raised eyebrows, eyes flickering over to the boy. Harry nods and Jodi smiles, lips tight.

"I suppose I am- unless you have any other moms you want to tell me about?" She says in tone saying both 'we're going to talk about this later' and 'you're my son now'.

"Nope- none right now." Jodi smiles warmly as Harry quickly says goodbye to the two boys.

"Wait- why is your mum-" The portrait swings shut as Jodi and Harry begin the trek to the library.

"So she shares your interest in reading I assume?" Says the sheriff, eyeing bookcase upon bookcase full of tomes new and old. Harry's eyes flit from aisle to aisle, scanning for his bushy-haired friend.

"Yes- she's really clever." He says smiling, "She's good at magic too and her parents aren't wizards or witches either- they're both muggles." The woman nods.

"So muggles are just not magical people." Harry nods.

"Yeah- it's just a slightly shorter way of saying it." Jodi nods again.

After a few moments of silence she tilts her head in the air, pretending to be disinterested even though Harry isn't looking at her.

"So- this friend- do you like her?" The boy spots her and grins.

"Yep- there she is. I'll introduce you but we'll have to be quiet because the librarian has good hearing." The woman nods, still pretending she isn't taking keen notice of her adoptive son's behaviour around the girl.

He walks over and taps her on the shoulder, she frowns and looks back at him.

"What is it? I'm at a very interesting section on the usage of charms to ease potion-making." She places a hand across the pages as she rests the book spine against the table.

"I wanted you to meet my mom." Harry smiles and the girl looks up, flustered. She stands awkwardly and tries to smile, offering her hand to the older woman.

"Oh- I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. I'm Hermione Granger, my parents are muggles too." The sheriff takes the hand, shaking it twice before letting it go, slightly overwhelmed by the girl's panic.

"Um- cool- that's cool. I'm Harry's mom- you can call me Jodi." She smiles warmly. Hermione smiles back, a little less awkward, "What do your parents do?" Hermione grins proudly.

"They're dentists. Most of the people here don't even know what they are." Jodi whistles,

"Must be some money in that." The girl frowns.

"I don't know- probably not as much as they'd get in America because of the National Health Service but I guess so." She snaps her gaze back up to the older woman, "How about you? I think Harry said that you worked in law enforcement." Jodi nods.

"Yeah, I'm a sheriff- it's my job to protect the people, sometimes from the people." She finished with a wry smile and Hermione nods concernedly.

"Yes- sometimes I think that must be the hardest part. It would be much easier if people could just get along." Jodi nods.

"Yeah- you're right kid." She smiles, "I guess I have you to blame for Harry still being safe, keep up the good work." She gives a thumbs up and the girl grins.

"It's hard work but I think I can manage it." Harry frowns.

"Hey!" Jodi ruffles his hair and Hermione glances back at her book again.

"I think we'll I'll be going soon- can't leave Claire alone you know?" Says the sheriff, smiling. Harry nods.

"Yeah- that's probably not a great idea. I'll take you back to see Professor McGonagall now." Jodi nods.

"Nice meeting you Hermione." The girl nods, returning the good bye.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did. Also this chapter is slightly skippy because I just want to get on with the plot now.

“Shouldn’t we have reached Halloween by now?” Asks Hermione at breakfast. Everyone looks at her confusedly and she frowns.

“It’s just that it feels like we’ve been here for ages.” She adds defensively, going back to her food. Ron and Neville look to Harry who shrugs clueless.

That evening Harry is back in the chamber with the locked door. He unpicks the first layer of warding on the door and sighs at the thick wad of magic still in the way.

“Why can’t these things be easy.” The spells don’t react and the boy focuses on remembering the layout of this next layer. When he has finished he reconstructs the first layer above the rest.

Professor Tim again takes only one student to teach for the next lesson. He brushes aside Hermione’s bitter complaints and directs the Ravenclaw from last week to lead the class. 

Needless to say the results are interesting.

The boy stands, a wide grin on his face despite his obvious tiredness. Professor Tim leaves into the side room with his latest student.

“Tim is the best.” He says, still smiling and staring at a point behind all of the students in the class.

“Don’t you mean  _ Professor  _ Tim?” Hermione leans forwards over her desk, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance. Ron rolls his eyes.

“Tim is the best and you should trust Tim.” States the boy firmly. He doesn’t seem to even see Hermione as his head tilts in her direction. The girl scowls and another Ravenclaw cuts in.

“Um- what about whatever Professor Tim taught you James?” James tilts his head, mouth fixed as a grin. Harry starts to feel unnerved.

“Tim is great.”

Hermione stands, her chair screeching across the stone and leaves. Everyone stares at the door. Everyone except James.

“Trust in Tim.” Gryffindor decides the lesson is a lost cause and leave the Ravenclaws to deal with their mentally awol member. Harry, Ron and Neville pack up Hermione’s stuff for her, somehow managing to fit everything back into the bag.

“That is the most impressive thing she’s ever done.” Says Ron grinning. He quickly frowns when he picks up her repacked bag.

“How the bloody hell does she carry this around every day?” He drops it back to the floor and Harry  wraps a weight lessening charm around it, lifting it over his shoulder.

“She’ll be in the library won’t she?” Neville nods and Ron stares at him in amazement.

“How?” Harry smiles.

“Weight lessening charm- makes it a lot easier to carry things.” Ron grins.

“You’ve got to teach me that mate!” Neville smiles.

“Me too.” Even Ron comes to their study session in the library for that lesson- granted he only concentrates for five seconds but it’s an improvement.

That evening McGonagall approaches the group while they are eating and passes Harry a note.

“Your meeting time for your appointment with Mr. Ollivander. Please do be prompt Mr. Potter.” The boy nods, unfolding the parchment. 

“Why would you need an appointment with Ollivander, Harry?” Asks Neville curiously as the Professor leaves back to the teachers’ table. Harry frowns, apparently the meeting meant missing at least some of his Transfiguration lesson.

“My wand isn’t working as well for me as it should- at least that’s what the Professors think.” Ron and Neville both look down, obviously thinking about their own malfunctioning wands. The meal continues on quietly for the small group.

The next day Harry meets Professor McGonagall in the Entrance Hall. The weird man from the wand shop grins excitedly when he sees him.

“Black walnut and phoenix feather, eleven inches, quite supple- I hear it’s not been working as well as it should be.” Harry nods.

“No.” The mad man only grins wider.

“Well- let’s see it then!” Professor McGonagall nods to Harry without smiling. The boy passes over his wand and the man instantly begins inspecting it.

“Do you think Ron and Neville’s wands could be looked at too Professor?” Harry asks quietly. The Professor is about to speak when the old wandmaker interrupts.

“Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom? Didn’t have either of them in for their wands.” He comments loudly. McGonagall looks shocked.

“You mean they’re both using inadequate wands?” She asks, frowning. The wandmaker gives Harry’s wand a wave and observes the fountain of flashing lights which pour out of the end.

“Oh?” He frowns confusedly before returning to the conversation, a lot more solemn.

“I expect so- family heritage and all that sometimes.” He passes the wand back over to Harry, “Now you wave that- go on.” Under Ollivander’s intense gaze Harry flicks the wand. There’s a loud crack and a fireball erupts from the end of the wand, crackling as it hits the wall with a thud. 

The portraits start to scream and before anything can burn Harry clamps down on the rogue magic, pulling it apart so it disperses harmlessly. McGonagall just stares bewildered and the old man rubs his chin.

“Yes, yes. I’ve seen this before. Only in wizards seven or eight times your age or from some survivors of the worse wizarding wars but I know it when I see it. You’ve outgrown your wand Mr. Potter.” He nods to himself. Professor McGonagall frowns.

“What do you mean?” She asks sharply. Ollivander sucks in a breath.

“Well sometimes when a wizard spends a lot of time without a wand to work with their magic surpasses it. When I sell a wand it comes with a power limitation so beginners don’t hurt themselves. With this wand the limitation has absorbed everything it can and has been burned through. There are safety features beyond this to prevent adults from surpassing the capabilities so easily and ensure that they get a long life from their wand. These wands adapt over time but when there is too much of a power difference between uses it causes the wand to overload. As magic is more malleable in its pure form-as you know- the best thing for individuals with overloaded wands to do is to give up using their wand and rely instead on their wandless magic as they clearly have the capability to do so. There is a possibility if a wizard shares a strong enough connection with a wand to reign in their power and slowly accustom the wand to their new power levels. This is not advised because it limits the potential of the wizard however I don’t think it could apply in Mr. Potter’s case anyway.” The Professor sighs.

“Thank you Ollivander. Your help has been most appreciated. I will try and arrange sessions for a wand choosing with Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom as their earliest convenience.” Ollivander grins.

“No problem Minerva. I hope to see them soon- you know how an individual’s potential can be harmed by an unsuited wand. Goodbye for now.” Professor McGonagall nods her farewell and looks down at Harry.

“Only your father’s son could be this inconvenient.” Harry smiles sheepishly.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this are word for word from the first book which I own a copy of but nothing more in case you thought I did. Remember it’s crack fic and I warn you that from this chapter and onwards it will get crackier and crackier~ Also this is the entrance of cameos so from this chapter on if it’s in the body of the story in italics it’s probably a cameo.

Harry pats each of the dog’s heads as they chew at the thick bones. He has to stand on one leg to manage them all at the same time, leaving one shoe on the floor. Perhaps the cerberus would be less aggressive each time he passed through (and he had a feeling he’d have to do that a lot) if he didn’t just put it to sleep.

Its singular tail wags...

 

_The room is silent. A log fire burns on in the grate despite the many hangings on both the windows and walls to preserve the heat. The furniture is made universally of fine oak, hard wearing and polished to a glossy shine. The fire is a sole point of warmth, contrasting to the thick drapes of green and silver, iridescent fabrics glimmering as if tiny beetle wings had been stitched into the surface. The chairs too have been cushioned with a deep emerald green worked into with a silver design which seems to slip from one fabric to another. Lining the walls and dotted across the heavy oak floor are bookshelves of the same ilk of the chairs and desk. The parts facing the room are inlaid with precious stones and a scrolling metal design. The shelves themselves are packed with rare books. The work of tens of generations to collect and catalogue. Out of anything these suggest perhaps the strongest the ancestry of the family who live in this home and their status._

_The tall, suavely dressed man appears in an instant._

 

Harry looks around the chamber- how strange- he had the feeling that time had stopped for a minute or two.

Shrugging off the puzzled feeling he steps down through the trapdoor. Cushioning charm like the last two times. Warming spell. He enters the room with the door.

 

_He slips off his sunglasses, disappearing them with a mere thought. His eyes are turned almost black by the dim lighting of the room. As the fire catches them they shine purple, fading again as he moves sharply to a standing bookshelf. His trench coat flows from his shoulders like death’s own cloak. Beneath that he wears silky dress trousers, fitting neatly to his legs and a cleanly cut white shirt, flattering his lean body._

_Also a tie. Black- as if he were about to go for a formal dinner._

_He tilts his fedora back, looking intensely at the thinner books scattered over the shining top of the bookshelf. He smirks, hearing the door open._

 

Harry’s head snaps to either side- there was that weird feeling again! He laughs awkwardly, quite glad no one was there to see how awkward the moment really is. He coughs to derail that train of thought.

What was he doing?

Ah- yes.

Harry unpicks the first two layers quickly. He sighs when he sees the mass of magic still left- why did security have to be so tight? He sets to-

 

_“Who are you?! What are you doing in my house?!” The blonde man scrambles for his wand, baring his teeth in anger, “I’ll call the Minister down on your head unless you leave right this instant!” The taller man spins on his heel._

_“Oh- will you?” Retorts the trench-coated man snarkily. The blonde man can’t even begin saying a spell before his lips have sealed shut. The purple eyed man smirks._

_“I am Rapture. Rapture Unknown- think what you will of that-” He waves a hand nonchalantly. His eyes close as he introduces himself, tilting his head towards the ceiling, “Not that I expect someone like you can think.” His gaze snaps down onto the shorter man cuttingly._

_He spreads his hand against a book on top of a thin book, flipping it up into his hand._

_“I am here to rid the world of a disease- of course a wizard as out of touch as yourself with muggles probably doesn’t know what a disease is- regardless your dear boss Tom Riddle is one and as such I have taken it upon myself to destroy him with a few… Friends… I suppose you could call them.”_

 

-work memorising-

Hey! It did it again! Harry was sure time had frozen again anyway, his eyes flicker as far as they will go into the darkness around the room and his magical senses stretch out.

Nothing- there’s nothing.

For some reason Harry doesn’t believe his senses. He sets to work regardless, memorising the layout of the next layer of the magical lock.

 

_One man stands by the fireplace, turning the poker in his hands. He smiles politely, light hair falling in front of his delicate face as he tilts his head._

_“I am Ragnarok. I am afraid that you will find me to be quite… Unidentified… In any database, Wizarding or otherwise.” He chuckles, gloved hand covering his mouth as he looks to his left. His eyes shine like the sea._

_A comparitively deep voice seems to emerge from the shadowed depths of the drapery. It’s somewhat unintelligible._

_“I am Armaggedon. I too doubt that I can be found in many catalogues. I suppose you may call me… Obscure.”_

_The tap of heeled shoes can be heard from beyond the room. The silenced blonde looks to the door hopeful that his wife is bringing him a peacock sammich._

_The door opens and it turns out that Lucius isn’t that lucky._

_The woman closes the door behind her, deep purple nails immediately making the door seem unpolished in comparison. She smirks._

_“Sorry I’m late.” Her hair is cut short and styled elegantly to go with her outfit. Her purple stilettos click against the hard floor as she walks over to the others, ultra-modern suit showing off her slim legs and class. She comes to a stop and looks down at the Malfoy on the floor with a smirk._

_“Oh- thought I’d almost stepped in some crap.” The blonde looks almost downtrodden._

_“I am Apocalypse. I’m afraid that my last name is. Well. Undisclosed. I would say it’s a shame but I don’t think you have long to remember it anyway.” She smirks at the man._

 

“It happened again! I’m not mad!” Harry looks around, wide-eyed, magic frying any creature within twenty metres.

Luckily there are none.

He shudders, trying to calm his breathing rate down.

Maybe it was this place?

He will get out of there soon. All he has to do is-

 

_Rapture tears the book in half. The undead section of Voldemort’s soul screams in semi-eternal teenage angst._

_“Why was I so preeeettttttyyyyyy??????” Lucius looks somewhat disturbed._

_In the next moment the four are gone, leaving the room empty._

 

Harry screams- glad that he has somehow memorised the next layer of the locking mechanism- and tears himself from the room as quickly as possible. The boy literally flies through the trap door and races past the confused cerberus. He charges through corridors and staircases and hammers on the door to Dumbledore’s office. The gargoyles look on in shock, one remarking to the other about the rudeness of young people.

The door opens.

“Headmaster Dumbledore! Time keeps freezing!” Both men in the room turn to him.

“Harry?” Say both at once in different kinds of disbelief. Before Harry can ask who the man is he is swept up in a bone crushing hug.

“Harry! I would’ve recognised you anywhere!” The boy looks at Dumbledore worriedly.

“Er- what?” The man releases him, tears spilling down his face.

“It’s me- Sirius. Your dogfather.” At that moment Snape bursts in through the fireplace.

"Albus- there has been word that the Malfoy's ancestral home has been burned to the ground!"

Dumbledore sighs, resting his face in his palm.

This was turning out to be one of the most irritating evenings of his life.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow- this chapter's actually quite serious!!!
> 
> (Yes- that's kind of a pun but it's true anyway)

All four people stare at each other in varying degrees of shock and anger.

Before introductions can take place the man holding Harry has collapsed to the floor- courtesy of Snape- and Dumbledore is reaching for the bowl of lemon drops on his desk. The Headmaster leans forwards, taking one of the small yellow sweets. He sighs, popping it inside his mouth and leaning back against his chair.

“Severus. Sirius is here as evidence has come to light that he was innocent as you well know. For the fifteenth time today he has somehow managed to get both into the castle and my office and I don’t know how but all he wants is to talk to his godson for now. If you would please refrain from bodily harm while he is here it would be much appreciated.”  The boy stays still as the men seem to have forgotten him momentarily. He tilts his head a little to get a better look at the gaunt face of the man partially fallen on top of him. It is strange to think that this is a man who was best friends with his dad. He isn’t sure what to think really.

The Professor is about to speak, most likely loudly (as in a shout), until Dumbledore reminds him of his troubles. Harry manages to refrain from interrupting with the rather important issue of time not working properly as he knows it would only annoy his Potions Professor. With double Potions tomorrow he realises that this would just be a bad idea all round.

“I have just received word that the ancestral home of the Malfoys has been found burned to the ground. I have not told Draco yet but it also appears that his mother and father were home at the time.” For the first time since he has met the Professor Harry sees a glimmer of worry and perhaps care in his eyes. Dumbledore pales considerably.

“I see. We will need to inform the youngest Malfoy immediately. The Ministry will be able to arrange guardians for the boy but they will need time- it is likely that he will stay with you as his godfather. He is lucky that with his family’s accounts he will be well supported. We will have to arrange for specialists to come in to assess the boy’s well being. Hopefully he will see the sense in taking some time away to come to terms with his loss.” Snape nods, frowning.

“I will suggest that to him. If he is to stay with me I will make arrangements as soon as possible.” Dumbledore smiles a little.

“I presume that the student body is unaware?” The Professor nods.

“Tomorrow morning students will likely hear in either the newspapers or from parents. If I can I would like to have Draco somewhere apart by then so that he does not have to face his peers until he has had time to work through everything.” Dumbledore dips his head, sighing.

“It is a shame that the youngest Malfoy should have to face such a loss at such a tender age. I trust that you will take care of him and the likely situation that will occur in Slytherin as best you can while I make arrangements.” Severus nods determinedly, frown still etched into his face.

“Yes Sir.” The man quickly retreats to the fireplace, taking a pinch of powder from a pot on the mantelpiece and throwing it in. The fire turns green and after asking for his office he steps through the flames.

Dumbledore stands, peering over the edge of his desk.

“Are you quite alright?” He asks, watching Harry finally try and crawl out from beneath his godfather. The boy nods, dusting himself off and looking down at the man lying on the floor.

“Yes- I’m fine.” There is a pause while they both stare at each other.

“I presume you heard the whole conversation.” Dumbledore says. Harry nods.

“Yes- don’t worry though. Even though Malfoy wants to be my rival I won’t tell anyone and I’ll treat him the same as usual if I do see him.” The Headmaster smiles.

“He does seem oddly fixated with hating you.” Harry doesn’t know what to say in response so stays quiet, nodding in agreement.

There’s another pause.

A long pause.

…

“Time isn’t working right!” Harry shouts, remembering his earlier panic.

The Headmaster blinks, remembering his earlier doubt of the boy saviour’s sanity. He opens his mouth once, closes it then opens it again.

“Why do you think that?” He asks, frown once again coming over his face.

“Well I was walking along a corridor and there was this strange thing where time just stopped momentarily and I didn’t think it was anything at first but I got this weird feeling five times so it must mean time’s either falling apart and everything in existence is going to fall into the void left behind or time is slowing down until eventually it will freezes into one moment and there will be no future ever- Hermione’s been saying it too- that is feels like it should be Halloween already and what if everything dies!” Dumbledore sighs, taking off his glasses and summoning a cleaning cloth with a flick of his hand. He cleans them and places them back on the bridge of his nose. Finished he looks back at Harry.

“I think you may be studying too hard Mr. Potter. For two of our most impressive first years to be having the same delusions must mean that you both need a good rest.” Harry stares at Dumbledore aghast.

“But time is dying sir!” The Headmaster smiles wearily.

“If you insist I will ask Professor Snape or Madam Pomfrey to create some Sleeping Draughts for the both of you. You can rest assured that time is passing as it should be. There is in fact a room deep in the Ministry where time is regulated and there are special operatives whose job it is to ensure that time progresses as it should. You may have experienced a very localised anomaly- Hogwarts is an ancient castle- who knows what lays in its outer reaches or long forgotten corridors.” His eyes twinkle with merriment and Harry frowns. Maybe he’s right. After all, Hermione and himself almost spend more time in the library than anywhere else. The Headmaster must be right.

The man behind the desk the  gestures to the man on the floor.

“If you could, Mr. Potter.” The boy nods.

“Oh- of course.” With a thought he lifts the sleeping enchantment from his godfather. The man springs up instantly, firing in the direction of the fireplace.

“Severus!” The spell dissipates harmlessly as Harry raises shielding in the trajectory, “Oh- where’d he go?” The man looks around confusedly. Dumbledore coughs.

“He was faster than you.” Harry’s godfather groans in irritation.

“Next time I see that slimy git-” The Headmaster cuts him off calmly.

“You will treat him with the respect a Hogwarts Professor and fellow member of society deserves, Mr. Black.” The man sighs, collapsing into one of the chairs in front of the desk, defeated.

“Yes sir. As long as he doesn’t do anything to threaten me or my godson.” At that point he remembers that Harry is in the room and jumps up excitedly to squish him to death again.

“It’s been such a long time Prongslet! I’ve missed you every day I spent in that place!” Harry squeaks, trying to wriggle from the man’s grip. Apparently he is stronger than he looks.

“Mr. Black- if you keep hugging your godson like that it is likely he will expire.” The man releases Harry quickly, huge grin still in place and tears in his eyes. He looks the boy up and down and smiles.

“You are your father’s copy but with your mother’s eyes.” Harry blinks.

“Thanks… I think?” Dumbledore interrupts the rather awkward moment to Harry’s relief.

“Mr. Black- as I have told you many times today alone- Harry’s guardian has requested to be on hand when Harry first meets you so for now I will ask you to return to your current lodgings.” The man frowns a little but nods.

“Yeah- just one more question though.” Dumbledore relents and the thin man crouches down to look Harry in the eyes seriously.

“Who are your guardians and how have they treated you?” The boy looks at his godfather then to Dumbledore for reassurance. The Headmaster nods with a smile.

“My guardians for most of my life have been a woman in law enforcement living in america and some of her friends. They have been good to me- really good.” He reinforces, equally serious. The man’s eyebrows dip and he sighs, standing.

“Well it could be worse. Hopefully I can see you again soon Harry. Good night Dumbledore.” The man behind the desk sighs.

“I presume you know your way out too Mr. Black?” He asks Harry’s godfather. The man grins.

“You can’t seriously expect me to tell you?” And walks out of the door. The Headmaster turns to Harry.

“And I think you should be going to bed Mr. Potter.” The boy nods.

“Good night sir.” Due to his improved anti-detection spells even when he passes Filch and his cat neither senses a thing.

The next morning Malfoy is not at breakfast, nor Potions. Ron seems delighted until Hermione points out to him that the papers said that the boy lost both of his parents and his home. He eats relatively little for the rest of the day, frowning whenever he hears the boy’s name mentioned.

The boy is still away from school by the time three weeks have passed.

Harry’s progress in classes and on the lock has been steady and Hermione has been doing just as well as always except for refusing to turn up to any of Professor Tim’s lessons and avoiding everyone who had been taught by him.

Harry doesn’t blame her- there’s something odd about the students when Tim has spent an hour with them.

Hermione doesn’t seem to know what to think about Draco’s loss. She is seemingly the least affected by it despite vocalising clearly how awful it is for him to have lost everything all at once. He has noticed that her notes have increased in length slightly and that her letters take a little longer to write but otherwise she hasn’t changed.

Ron has been quieter than usual and less quick to anger. Harry doesn’t probe too much but from a few questions he has the impression that the boy is actually quite worried about the youngest Malfoy. He’s been writing more often too- not notes but Harry sees him drift off to the owlery up to three times some days.

Neville is as dependable as usual. Both himself and Ron had their wands tested and the Ministry had had to supply Ron with a suitable one due to his finances while Neville’s grandmother had had to buy him a new one. With this both of them were quickly catching up to their peers’ level. He doesn’t seem as affected as Ron by the youngest Malfoy’s loss but sometimes when they’re in the common room and he hears the boy’s name he’ll frown or when post comes he’ll glance at one of the students receiving letters from their parents and look for the empty spot on the Slytherin table.

  
In some ways he thinks it strange that the death of some people related to someone they shared distaste for could have such an affect for themselves. In fact the student body as a whole seem to be shaken by the event, stifled by the figure of death hanging over them.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey- might be getting somewhere near finishing this fic! I mean within this year so don’t worry too much, haha! Also there’s lines from ‘It’s Oh So Quiet’ by Bjork which I don’t own because I’m not her :P

On yet another Saturday before Halloween Harry finds himself standing in front of the lock memorising the layout of each layer three more times before it opens with a mere click.

The magic curls away from the door, passing back into the walls and lightly framing the now slightly open door. Despite normally being one to appreciate such spectacles Harry is honestly so tired of being there that the view is met only with faint interest and a short ‘oh’.

“That- that didn’t take so long.” He waits, staring at the wood for a moment more. With the block out of the way he can feel the power of the stone much more strongly. Carefully he pushes the door open, letting out tendrils of magic to detect any more locks or traps that might be waiting for him.

There is nothing in the next room so he steps inside, making sure to leave the door open in case it couldn’t be opened from his side. Curiously there is a checkered floor. Harry thinks little of it given the strange order of rooms throughout the rest of the castle.

The next room is empty too and the door unlocked so he follows straight through into the next. This room finally has something in it.

Harry can sense immediately that this is Snape’s room. The cauldrons steaming away on the huge tabletop don’t hurt his guess but mostly he can tell from the magic keeping various potions in stasis, stirring spoons and controlling temperature. He wonders for a moment how much the man must have practised to be able to project his magic this skillfully.

Harry makes sure to touch nothing- the man seems to disapprove of him enough as it is.

The room beyond that is much smaller than all of the previous ones. Harry steps inside.

In the middle of the floor is a deep red stone- almost the size of his fist. He picks it up and slips it into his pocket. 

The boy barely manages to contain the strength of it and knows he’ll have to store it somewhere safe and warded until he can get it to Rowena. He only hopes that he doesn’t encounter Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore on the way back to  his dormitory.

 

In the middle of nowhere there is a house almost concealed completely by weeds. The building is on the edge of collapsing, structural damage slowly wearing away at the crude magic keeping it standing. 

In one moment it is standing. In the next it is ablaze with fire consuming what is left after its abandonment.

A man in a suit stands outside, a broken ring in his palm. He throws the twisted metal into the fire. 

An angry scream can just be heard behind the sound of old wood groaning and collapsing in on itself.

 

Several weeks pass with little happening. Ron and Neville continue to improve, Harry and Hermione continue to be better than everyone else and Gryffindor decides as a house that there’s no point in going to History of Magic. So they don’t. Even Percy the prefect declares the class a waste of time. Draco still hasn’t come back and aside from the few Ravenclaws who steadfastly avoid Tim’s lessons Ravenclaw’s average grades drop to their lowest in over three hundred years..

One thing that has happened is Harry’s secret meetings with his godfather. Harry never had a clue how the man found his way in but every  time he turned around the man seemed to be there. 

The boy knows his mother asked him to wait until she was there to meet with the man but so far he hadn’t done anything even remotely harmful to him and he’s actually pretty funny. Harry wonders if his dad was similar- according to Sirius they were best friends.

After every meeting he speaks to Rowena and they begin to form a plan between them.

 

In two days his mother will arrive for the first official time Harry meets Sirius. He’s excited to see both of them and has made his godfather promise to pretend they’re meeting for the first time. The man seemed pleased by this suggestion, laughing like it’s all a joke- Harry supposes it is in a way except that hopefully his mom will never know the punchline.

 

Sirius is dressed smartly to meet her. Or the boy  _ thinks _ that’s the impression he’s trying to make. Judging from the expression on his mom’s face Harry is unsure whether she has even noticed Sirius because of the strange assortment of colours the Headmaster is wearing.

“It’s nice to finally meet my godson and his guardian.” Sirius says calmly. Jodi’s gaze finally snaps to him. She nods with pursed lips.

“Jodi Mills.” There’s an awkward pause as everyone looks at each other, “And you are Sirius Black, aren’t you?” The man nods.

“Yes. I am.” Nobody speaks for quite a while.

“Would anybody like a lemon drop?” Dumbledore offers, holding out the bowl. 

No one says anything.

Harry looks at Dumbledore who looks back at Harry. The Headmaster takes a sweet for himself.

The silence continues.

Dumbledore takes another sweet…

Harry looks at them curiously and shrugs, taking one. They’ll probably be there for a while.

It’s oh so quiet…

The Headmaster pops another lemon drop in his mouth.

It’s oh so still…

Half of the bowl is missing now but no one has spoken.

In this room…

And so peaceful until Jodi sighs, looking at Harry’s godfather skeptically.

“So. I suppose you’ll want to know about Harry’s life with me?” She arches an eyebrow and Sirius briefly glances to Harry from whom he has heard all about Harry’s life up until this point. Eventually he nods, smiling.

“Yes. I do. I was best friends with his dad so anything you can tell me about how his son’s grown up- I’d be grateful.” Jodi gives an odd smile and the two finally sit down.

“I think I can do that.” Says the sheriff.

 

When it finally comes to the time when Jodi has to leave the two adults seem to be getting on quite well. For appearances Sirius has asked Harry a few questions about his life and friends and family which the boy has answered dutifully.

“Hey- Sirius.” Jodi says, hand hovering above the portkey. The man raises his eyebrows in question, “If you ever want to visit and see where Harry’s grown up you’re welcome.” She grins at him and Sirius smiles back.

“I’d love to. I’ll send an owl.” Jodi nods.

“Good evening Headmaster Dumbledore, Sirius. Look after yourself Harry.” The boy smiles and all three respond in kind before both the pen and Jodi disappear.

Dumbledore looks at his empty bowl of lemon drops in mourning.

 

Suddenly- and finally- the end of October nears. Various members of the school who still attend Tim’s classes seem to have been doing a zombie act for the duration of the month which Harry would find vaguely impressive if it weren’t so creepy. He half wonders if he should start gearing up for a zombie apocalypse. 

Hermione already has. She carries around a small bag with her, enchanted by Harry upon her request to hold a lot more than it should and have anti-breakage, anti-spoilage and anti-spillage charms active on the things inside. On various occasions he has seen her fill her plate beyond an amount she could ever eat, shoving bits and pieces into her bag while she chats with Ron who is so busy devouring his own food he doesn’t notice. 

He thinks he should perhaps be a little concerned for her considering the amount of survival books he has seen arrive via owl but passes the hobby off as harmless. After all if there’s an apocalypse he’d prefer have a survival expert for a best friend.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah- my next deadlines on Wednesday and oh so much stress! Managed to get this out for everyone though :) Also a friendly reminder that this is (at heart) a crackfic.

“It’s the day!” Screams Hermione on the thirty-first of October, diving beneath the table at breakfast.

For the whole way-more-than-four weeks they’d been in October the girl had become more and more paranoid. Ron had barely noticed and Neville had shown quite a lot of worry for her. Harry had been confused by her behaviour at first but as he’d slowly come to realise the reality of her ramblings about time being broken he too had become a subject of concern for both their more observant friends and their teachers.

Numerous times he and Hermione had been called in by Professor McGonagall to ask about sleep patterns or their childhoods and anything else under the Professor could think of. Unfortunately for her (and the rest of the faculty enlisted to help the two problem prodigy) the issue of time falling seemed to be deeply seated in their psyche. If it went on for much longer Harry expected they would call in mind healers just to try and fix the perceived problem.

Regardless for the appearance of sanity when much greater is at risk Harry too ducks beneath the table with a terrified shriek. 

Minutes later they are fished out but an extremely tired Professor McGonagall who looks to Dumbledore desperately.

“Time isn’t working and Ravenclaws are zombies and the sky might fall on us if reality collapses because time is broken!!1!” Shouts Hermione before somehow freeing herself from the Head of Gryffindor's grip and running out of the corridor, eyes wild, hair frizzy and custom-enlarged bag in tow. 

Everyone stares after her. Even Harry.

“She’s right you know!” He says nobly. The short boy manages to escape McGonagall’s grip too, he stands on the Gryffindor house table majestically. 

In some poor other Gryffindor’s bowl of cereal.

Still majestical though.

He raises his head to the ceiling and addresses the room.

“All of you- students of these hallowed halls- these times are troubled. Literally. Time is falling apart around us- before and after everything- even at this current moment. We can just stand by and watch this happen- let ourselves be sucked into the void which would likely result after the destruction of time itself. That or we could stand up and fight!” He rallies the crowd who are oddly silent, staring at him in utter confusion and some (two ginger haired Gryffindor twins) who are clapping and whooping loudly, “Around us we have everything we could need- specialists of every kind of magic and the knowledge of centuries to-” Luckily someone decides to take this moment to intervene and the small ranting child flops down. 

There is silence.

“Somebody had to do something.” Sneers the bat-like Potions Master. His wand remains trained on the boy. McGonagall stares at him with an expression even Dumbledore himself can’t identify.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but thank you Severus.” McGonagall levitates the boy and Professor Snape finally lowers his arm. He frowns.

Harry Potter is duly removed from the Great Hall and placed under Madame Pomfrey’s care.

Only ten minutes and two Calming Draughts later he is released back into the wilds of the Hogwarts corridors. 

He makes it to Charms in good time. Everybody tries to ask him questions except the zombie Ravenclaws. They just amble around the classroom until Professor Flitwick arrives to field questions off of the boy-who-is-too-calm-to-notice-anything-right-now. 

Eventually the Gryffindors return to their seats but the Ravenclaws are a different matter. No matter what their Head of House does they continue to ramble, both physically and through speech.

“Tim is great.” 

“Isn’t Tim the greatest?”

“My mind is Tim’s.”

“Everyone loves Tim.”

 

“Isn’t Tim great?”

“Slytherin must be converted too.”

 

“Best Tim is.”

“Ravenclaw for Tim as Headmaster.”

“Orangine is a colour.”

“Kevin supports Tim.”

“Evil he is not.”

“Never forget Tim.”

 

At this moment Harry breaks through the haze of two Calming Draughts and runs from the room screaming.

Professor Flitwick stares after him for a moment then back at his unruly classroom and begins to weep for the state of education.

 

The boy runs for the Great Hall, hoping to pick up the Hermione trail there and find his only chance of surviving the time-zombie apocalypse at the end.

He just forces his way through the heavy doors when suddenly it is the evening. Harry yelps as someone runs right into him.

 

“Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know.” The man says quickly before collapsing on Harry. The boy prys his way out from beneath the man with a sigh of relief.

 

Whilst everyone is still reacting to the shock and confusion of a) Harry appearing in the middle of nowhere having been unable to be found for the entire day by anyone and b) Quirrel falling over and almost crushing Harry who had supposedly been kidnapped for a strange blood ritual (as the rumours had circulated) and c) troll- Harry Potter, nerd tracker extraordinaire, makes a stealthy escape from the Great Hall. 

 

He follows Hermione’s magical signature and the strongest smell of books in the whole castle and finally finds his friend in the library.

Sitting beside her as she reads one of her books is a tall, grotesque creature with a graduation cap wearing a black loincloth (Harry hopes despite not being able to see given the beast is sitting because otherwise it would be really quite unacceptable in public) and a grey waistcoat with a pocketwatch in the pocket.

“Harry! Meet Gerald- he’s my new friend! He believes in time breaking apart too!” Says the girl delightedly, making her place in her current book. Harry inches forwards, not sure what his reaction is supposed to be.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter. My kind tell so much of you- Gerald Quinton, Time Travelling Troll. I’ve come to fix your reality now so there is one later.” The boy-who-lived nods in response.

“Oh. Well I guess you already know me. Harry Potter- scar faced wizard.” Harry smiles awkwardly. Mr. Quinton lets out a booming laugh.

“A comedian too- it seems your records are a little lacking in the future. I’ll fix that for you mate.” The troll quiets himself, sighing a little as he speaks. 

“Now- onto business.” Gerald claps his huge grey hands together, “I believe you have some time troubles? What exactly has been happening?” The two humans tell the troll about their continuity conundrums between them. When they have finished the troll sighs.

“That’s not good. It sounds like you have a severe case of time distortion centred around Hogwarts.” Quinton sucks in a breath that whistles through his disturbingly clean teeth. The human children look at each other in panic and confusion.

“What does that mean?” Asks Hermione worriedly. The troll grimaces.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I much I can do for you. You said it’s been doing this for about a month?” Gerald’s nose squishes further into his face as he speaks. Hermione nods in response to his question.

“In that case you just have to wait it out now- the distortion will even out eventually now. They don’t tend to last longer than a month.” Says the troll, leaning backwards.

“All you have to do is wait.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re enjoying- not long until this will be finished I think! Although the last time I said this about a fic it took three further months.

After enjoying a spot of tea with their new friend the time-travelling troll Hermione and Harry bid him goodbye. The troll tips his cap to them and disappears with a brief pop.

 

Meanwhile in the dungeons:

A troll lumbers around cluelessly, club thudding against walls as it swings its arms. It topples a set of armour and a portrait wakes up.

“What the devil are you doing sir?!” Shouts the figure, outraged, “You are awfully tall for a Hogwarts student- in my day we would  _ not _ have had any of  _ your _ kind wandering around our hallowed halls!” The troll roars and dashes his club through the painting. 

Quietly at either end of the corridor creep in men and women in camouflaged robes. One with a long, grey beard makes a complicated hand signal. A man with a hooked nose gestures back with an equally intricate movement of hands and arms. 

This is responded to with an an elaborate dance by the bearded man. 

The hooked nose man replies with a brief dance of his own including wand based pyrotechnics.

The troll stares at the odd occurrence, flabbergasted.

Dumbledore clears his throat and begins to beat box as Snape does odd movements reminiscent of the mating dance of some as-of-yet-undiscovered bird. 

Awkwardly Professors Flitwick and Sprout join in. The entire student body of Hogwarts minus two watches in confusion as the scene is magically projected onto the ceiling of the Great Hall where they have been barricaded in.

“Enough of that!” Snaps McGonagall in disapproval and transfigures the troll into a whiskered orange fish wearing a crown.

Dumbledore opens his mouth to complain about her interruption of the traditional Hogwarts there-is-a-troll-in-the-dungeons-and-we-don’t-know-why-so-we-assembled-a-team-of-our-best-fighters-to-dispatch-the-beast-but-we-would-rather-dance-than-fight-and-it-took-us-forever-to-find-it pre-battle intimidation dance but is wisely discouraged from it by the Potions Master frantically making an X-sign behind McGonagall’s back.

The troll-fish flops around uselessly. It doesn’t seem to be dying.

With a flick of McGonagall’s wand the fish is floating down the hallway after her. 

Everyone transfigures their robes back into their usual states.

The incident is never spoken about again.

 

Hermione seems to calm over the next few days, returning to her usual state of workaholism and no longer diving beneath tables at the slightest movement. Harry quickly focuses back in on his education too, easily catching up with the neglected efforts of his last few weeks while he’s been preoccupied with finding a stone in a castle and panicking about the impending doom of the entire universe. 

For the whole month of November Hogwarts is pretty normal. Dumbledore only has to refill his bowl of lemon sherbets nine times a day and the only thing out of sorts is the increasing number of zombie Ravenclaws and the slow spread of zombie Hufflepuffs.

Early in December, given Jodi’s permission, Harry meets with his godfather again. They wander the school unsupervised for hours (despite Snape’s fretting about the school blowing up and threats to blow Sirius up). Immediately upon arrival Harry leads Sirius into one of the far reaches of the castle and wraps privacy spells around the room.

“What’s this about Harry?” Asks the godfather, wand already in hand as his head whips from side to side warily. 

Harry looks him in the eyes determinedly.

“I’ve got something I need done.” The boy states. His godfather shifts, tilting his head back and nodding speculatively.

“Well. Tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll see what I can get done.” The man pauses, “Double points if it’s against Snivellus.” He continues. Harry stares at his godfather awkwardly.

“Oh. No. It’s nothing to do with Snape really. All I need you to do is take this package and give it to a red-head when you go to visit my mom in America. It’s extremely important that you don’t tell anyone about it.” Harry clarifies. Sirius smirks.

“Any more information about this red-head? Taking after your father, are you Prongslet?” The roguish man winks with a grin.

“What?” Harry can only utter that one word.

“Your red-headed friend in America- a woman I presume? Must be pretty serious about her to ask me to hand deliver something private to her? Don’t worry- I’ll be discreet.” The older man winks at his godson again.

Harry turns a rather horrid shade of green.

“No. She’s  _ really, really. REALLY. REALLY.  _ Not. She’s just- ew. No. She’s like my _ Auntie. _ ” Harry tries to fight back disturbing images as he speaks. It’s Sirius’ turn to go pale. He nods blankly.

“Oh. Sorry. Anything else you can tell me about her so I can find her more easily?” Sirius apologises, still looking quite ill. Harry nods woodenly.

“She’s Scottish and normally wears fancy dresses. She’s a magician unlike my mom which is why you can’t say anything to my mom because of American wizarding laws. Called Rowena. My mom doesn’t know she exists either.” Harry says, pulling the wrapped stone from his pocket. He passes it over to Sirius who cringes, tucking the magical object into a pocket somewhere inside his own robes.

“Really sorry about that Harry- anytime you do need dating advice though you know where to come.” Says the man, wincing.

“Yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry states, nodding.

The two stand, staring into nothing for a while longer.

“Anyway- guess I should probably be going…” Sirius says after a while. Harry pays little attention, merely nodding again.

“Yeah. I guess you should.” He agrees. The godfather backs out of the room awkwardly.

 

In a grubby house somehow squashed in between two considerably more normal looking houses three men and a woman appear. 

“We have come to destroy the locket, house elf.” Says the leader of the group, opening the kitchen cupboard door without moving a finger. A long-eared elf glares from the back of the cupboard.

“Kreacher does not know you. Why should Kreacher trust wizards dressing like Muggles?” Asks the unclean elf. The woman rolls her eyes, inspecting her nails.

“Because we can either destroy the locket or destroy the whole house, elf.” She taunts, eyes not moving to the creature. At this the house elf’s eyes light up a little although his expression remains wary.

“You mean Master Regulus’ locket?” He asks, presenting the huge gold pendant to them, holding firmly onto the chain, “You want to destroy Master Regulus’ locket?” He confirms. One of the men steps forwards, blue eyes shining mischievously.

“Yes. We would. If you just give us the locket we’ll get rid of it.” He says with a smile. The house elf doesn’t hesitate, flinging the locket at their feet.

“You are good wizards. Kreacher is thankful for the wizards destroying the locket. It is my Master’s wish.” Kreacher heaps praise on them and in the space between one blink and the next the four wizards disappear, the locket with them. 

Kreacher weeps with joy, feeling happiness once again touch his soul after so many years.


	29. Chapter 29

So hey- I'm back to finish this- I hope you enjoy the rest of the ride.

Sirius smiles at Jodi as she starts setting the table.

"-and if you have anything that relates to his father or mother that would be nice. Any books, photos, videos, something he had treasured- you know. Sentimental value. I mean I wouldn't ask you to part with it and we all love Harry very much but it would be nice for him to have something to remind him of his real parents. From what I've been told they were good people." Jodi says softly, placing a bottle of wine between where she usually sits and the place Sirius takes at the moment. The man has no doubts that her daughters will somehow get hold of some during the night and would claim innocence should they point the finger at him.

The two have been getting on quite well, Jodi and the girls having adjusted relatively quickly to having a possibly dangerous man of questionable sanity- and roguish good looks if he is quite honest with himself- living with them albeit temporarily. Sirius has found it refreshing on his part in many ways despite the struggle of having to cope without magic.

In this small town in America there are very few wizards and even fewer who would know of his status. This enables him to walk far more freely than he ever has been able to in Britain. For the first time in his life he isn't a Lord or a disgraced traitor or a 'murderer'. In fact any attention he does draw is from his dark sense of fashion and his British accent.

Never before has he been asked to 'say anything- I don't know what, just say something' so many times. If there weren't quite a few pretty ones in the mix he would have ran out of patience quite a while back. As it is he has gained about seven numbers, a tutorial on phones and how to use them from Jodi (he had explained his lack of basic knowledge away as having come from a very strict background and she had given him a look which plainly said she didn't believe him) and a very basic mobile phone courtesy of the rather small fraction of the Black vaults he had managed to gain access to and convert into Muggle money for America.

His ancestors would be turning in their graves and that suited Sirius more than just fine.

There is a certain purity, he finds, to living like Muggles. It takes a lot of getting used to and a lot of apologies when he gets it wrong but there's so much they've done with technology since he was sent to Azkaban. Even his beloved bike was old news now except to enthusiasts whose eyes seemed to gleam when he told them about it- maybe if he was lucky Hagrid or Dumbledore would know where it was now. He is very glad to have a break from pesky house elves.

He is a bit curious however about the fact that if she has been looking after Harry and knows that he's at Hogwarts surely that means she knows something of magic. He doesn't ask though- it would probably be quite rude.

Sirius sits now on a sofa opposite the television, one leg bent over the other and head tilted back to talk to his godson's new mother. Words can't describe how pleased he is that she has been Harry's guardian while he's been unable to care for him. Merlin- he wishes he'd had a mother like her.

"I would be more than happy to. He's the last link I have to two of my good friends- I know I can find something for him. There are a lot of things I have from James- he-" the man takes a breath, swallowing down his sorrow, "he left quite a lot to me before it happened... They were. They were very good people. The best." He says firmly.

"You are brilliant too. You've done so much for Harry and he loves you guys as much as you love him. I can't thank you enough for giving him the childhood he never could have had in Britain." Sirius slides into the compliment smoothly and the sheriff rolls her eyes at him. If he weren't so used to it he'd still presume it was out of fondness.

"I wonder how long you've been practising that." She comments drily. Sirius laughs, flinging his arms over the back of the couch.

"Seriously though." He says with a goofy grin. After a week of such puns Jodi does not even deign this one with a response although she does smile just a little as she checks the contents of the oven.

"Should be another half an hour." Jodi calls from the kitchen. Sirius stands, joints clicking as he stretches.

"You alright with me popping out for a bit?" He asks, hand drifting to the weight in his pocket. Jodi looks at him briefly before checking her watch.

"You've done it every day since you came here. I don't know why you still ask." She replies bluntly.

"You know us English folk- got to be polite. Cream tea and top hats all of us." He says in his worst English accent with words parroted by many a stranger since he had arrived. He smiles at her as he heads for the door.

"Anyway I'll be off then- see you later Jodi." Sirius says, closing the door behind him and heading for the local park again.

Harry had told him before he left that he would tell his friend to meet Sirius in the park but so far she has been a no-show. He doesn't mind because- as he has already mentioned- the Americans are in general quite interested in him due to his general Britishness but the mystery keeps growing with every day she doesn't turn up.

It's been ten minutes by the time he checks his phone. He looks around idly, waving at a girl whose hair reminds him a little of Narcissa. He wishes she had been able to grow up in a country like this- maybe then she wouldn't have so much of a stick up her arse. Then there is a flicker of colour that screams Lily.

Sirius stares at the woman, caught first by the hair and second by the sense of power radiating from her. This woman is terrifying. Her eyes aren't the pure green Lily's were and her lips are pulled tight across her teeth as she smiles falsely.

"I take it that you have something for me." She says sweetly in an accent even more pronounced than Minerva's, hand outstretched towards him. He stands, raising his chin and taking on the manner of a Lord of the house of Black as he had (regretfully) been taught still childhood.

"What the bloody hell have you got my godson into?" He manages through his clenched jaw. She doesn't go for her wand and Sirius takes that to mean she isn't planning on attacking him and does not reach for his yet. The woman frowns, lips parting in either annoyance or confusion.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She responds coldly, tilting her head up. Somehow despite the fact she's so short that she's looking up at him it's rather intimidating. The dog in him bristles.

"You are dangerous. I can sense that much- can practically smell it on you. My godson asked me to deliver something to you. He didn't tell me anything about the object or the person I was giving it to but now I'm here I want to know what kind of danger you've put Harry into." He barely manages to keep a level voice and he sees her look around, shoulders tense. When she directs her gaze back to him there's something different about her, something more earnest.

"Look, the Godfather," She hisses, grabbing his shoulder, "Unless you didn't realise this is a public area and we're in the middle of enemy territory so to speak so if you would please keep your voice down I can explain some vital facts you seem to be missing." Sirius says nothing. Surely if Harry trusts her there must be a reason. He nods, thin lipped.

She looks into his eyes.

"Firstly, I would never hurt Harry." The witch spits out the words as if the mere idea of it was like poison to her, "He is one of the two people in this world I actually care about and the only person outside of myself who cares what happens to me. You think I would forsake that for anything? I taught him everything he knew before he got to Hogwarts- his mastery of wandless magic, his proficiency in potion-making. I taught him old secrets which would make today's masters seethe with envy to know that a wee boy has command over something they will never touch." Her eyes are wide as she whispers, hand still gripping his arm. Her gaze drifts to the pocket with the package in. Sirius doesn't doubt her power.

"Secondly," She continues delicately, "I am dying." Sirius raises an eyebrow and the woman scoffs.

"You didn't know so you don't believe me? Why do you think I would tell Harry that- he cares for me enough let alone with a burden like that to bear. It's not like I could just die and leave my training unfinished anyway." Her accent thickens as she speaks. She holds her head high and steps back from him.

"So the answer was simple. I told him I'm cursed with something non-fatal and that this stone you have in your pocket was part of a method that would rid me of my curse. They're banned here in America and it will work to get rid of my curse. So. I live, Harry gets a Scottish education and I teach Harry everything I know. Win- win- win. Now why don't you hand it over so I can get to work and save my bloody life before Harry has to deal with me dying." She manages to make her shouts go unheard and Sirius just laughs.

"You expect me to believe that?" He says finally. The witch's expression shuts down.

"You don't?" She questions lightly. Sirius snorts.

"It's exactly the kind of mess a son of James would find himself in accidentally. It's too crazy to be true- and I know crazy seriously well- so you can't be making it up. You even look a bit like his mother." The man fishes in his pocket and pulls out a wrapped stone. The witch just stares at him in shock.

"Wait- you're just giving it to me? After that whole show of not trusting me you're just- And I- I look like his mother?" She steps back, arms coming up in front if her. Sirius shrugs.

"Yes. I'm helping my godson smuggle illegal life giving stones into one of the most strict wizarding communities in the world to save a suspicious woman he cares about who looks like his mother. I don't want Harry to lose anyone else." He says solemnly. It sounds like one big prank when he says it like that. He holds out the stone.

"Now are you going to take it or not?" He asks.

The witch bites her lip, looking up at his face in uncertainty. She carefully lays a hand on the package and tightens her fingers around the rock inside.

"You won't mind if I check what it is now, will you?" She smiles a little, genially, "It's just that I've been tricked before and well- a girl's gotta be careful." Her eyes light up as she speaks.

"Um- sure. I've kind of got somewhere I need to be though so if you could..." Sirius trails off, eyeing the time on his phone.

The woman waits for no further encouragement, deftly unwrapping the stone. The rock glimmers a little in the late sun. She beams, closing her fist tightly around it.

"Thank you- thank you so much! How can I ever repay you?" She simpers in a way that reminds Sirius uncomfortably of his first girlfriend.

"You keep an eye on Harry and finish what you started." He says after a second, turning away and heading back towards Jodi's house. He catches the woman's nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh- I will! I'll teach him enough he could rule the world!" Her accent lengthens the rs and he finds himself smiling at the strange woman as he walks away.

"By the way it's the hair." He shouts over his shoulder, "His real mother was ginger too." He says. There is no reply.


	30. Chapter 30

_Unless you haven't guessed already Supernatural timing goes to hell in this fic- shit happens whenever I want to fit it in._

December passes slowly.

With no imminent danger and his aunt no longer showing up in his dreams there's nothing for Harry to do except schoolwork. I mean he's not complaining in the fashion that some of his classmates might but he's so bored.

Yes- the teachers have been giving him more advanced work and yes, he is actually finding it challenging and entertaining but there's something missing without the quest to find the magical stone or the forbiddeness of his dubiously sane godfather.

So he's bored until he and Sirius (who had in fact only been back in England for about a week by this point and had mostly come back just to bring Harry to America and sort out some bits around his house (the man had been beyond surprised to see the place spotless and free of the most harmful dark objects)) take the portkey back home.

Christmas takes away his boredom privileges as he accompanies various people to various places to buy various presents and recounts some of his less secret adventures to Claire. In response she drills him on defence protocols from his lessons and even manages to escape from Jodi's surveillance for long enough to teach him a little more about fighting. He suspects Sirius' help in evading notice when he feels the wash of a concealment spell over him. Claire doesn't notice and knocks him over in his brief distraction.

Sirius gets along well with his uncles. Unsurprisingly he gets on best with Dean, having smuggled in a good amount of Firewhisky for the holidays. Once again the girls somehow end up drinking it and Jodi promises to drain every drop down her sink when she finds it. She doesn't find it but judging by the three men's massive hangovers the next day she can make an educated guess as to where it went. Castiel is completely fine.

Then finally the wait is over and it's January- Sam, Dean and Sirius are drunk again- and then Harry is back at school.

And so is Draco.

The boy seems haunted by his family's passing. He enters the hall for breakfast without insulting Harry or any Gryffindor and walks in silence to his house table where he sits, still silent, and begins to delicately place food on his plate. His fellow slytherins, whether they sit before him or after, keep the silence too, none excitedly talking about new broomsticks or crowing at some joke.

Nobody asks any questions. Nobody laughs at him. Nobody points or stares.

Only those closest to him notice the tremble in his hands and only Harry (among the students) notices the way his magic has sharpened around him, trapped against his skin like roiling thunder. He eats and gradually all the other tables stop looking at him. It would be days before they stop whispering whenever they see him.

Harry watches him closely as he goes through his first day of lessons despite not being in them. From one of the few remaining non-zombie ravenclaws he hears of the boy calmly catching a batch of puffappod beans dropped by one of his unfocused classmates.

"- I swear he didn't even say anything. He just moved his wand and they all floated into the air and back into their special holding case!"

From Charms he gathers his report from some not-so-sneaky slytherins.

"His severing spell was the most accurate thing I've ever seen- he didn't even say the word, did he? Do you think he's okay?" The girl was hushed rather quickly by her companion scoffing and hissing at her to be quiet.

Some other slytherins' comments on his Defence lesson solidify his impression on Draco's change of aura.

"Do you know where Draco disappeared to after his smokescreen spell?"

"No- I couldn't see anything until someone opened all the windows."

"He didn't want to do it at first though- what changed his mind?" They are cut off by an older slytherin walking past and stepping on both of the first-year's feet unsubtly.

The other change is the reappearance of his tutor in his dreams.

As soon as he falls asleep he sees her smile and feels her arms wrap around him.

"I've missed you my wee lad." She says contentedly as she sits opposite him in the blank space of his mind with a cup of tea. Her eyes crinkle at the edges as she smiles.

"I've had so much to do- I think I've finally managed to cure my curse with the stone. I can only hope it works." Rowena's eyes close as she finishes speaking, "God I hope it works." Her voice drops into solemnity, something desperate shining through her accent.

"Are you alright, Auntie Rowena?" He asks carefully, knowing how unwilling the woman is to admit to her worries.

The witch smiles nervously.

"Yes- just a little trouble back here recently- I think I'll be okay now though. I've dealt with it for a while." She hides her lips behind her tea cup as she speaks.

"But how about you, Harry dear? Aren't you going to show your Auntie what you've learned in her absence?" Rowena asks.

Harry does and the witch watches his magic move with a smile as he casts reliably each spell and incantation and recreates each potion from his last month of tuition. The show ends with a pyrotechnics show influenced by the flares Quirrell has taught them.

The old witch smiles at the darkness as the lights fade.

"You know sometimes you don't need power to be great." She says softly. Harry shakes his head even though she isn't looking at him.

"No. You don't- sometimes you can just enjoy the fireworks." He says with all the solemnity an eleven-year old can muster.

Rowena leaves him quietly that night and returns back to her pattern of visiting each and every night.

She teaches him little now, preferring to watch his own spin on the new magic he is learning.

Hermione is the only one who doesn't seem nearly as settled after returning from the holidays.

She has reverted back to her apocalypse watch behaviour, peering around corners at zombified students and writing almost constantly when she isn't studying or (presumably) sleeping. The girl _has_ been writing as she eats however. He catches a glimpse of the book at one point but the code in there is too complex to understand with just a glance and Hermione had slammed the book closed, looking at him, wide eyed with purple smears beneath them when she noticed he was there. Neville seems to have become a little more on edge by association, taking up on her offer of training sessions because when your smart, hard-working friend says 'you never know what could happen' followed by nervous laughter and shifty looks at everyone surrounding them you take notice and try and spend more time around them so they don't fall into a coma or anger the wrong people.

Eventually she reveals all to the two boys.

"I've been writing my observations down constantly. Watching. Waiting." She whispers in a far corner of the library, hunched over the book like it's her only hope of survival.

"It's zombies- the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws have been turned into zombies!" The witch says urgently, grip on the book white-knuckled. Neville stares at her in confusion.

"What _are_ zombies?" He asks curiously. Harry assumes that it's a wizard thing to not know about zombies and feels a stone drop into his stomach. Does that mean the wizarding community have been defenceless against zombies this whole time? No- they must have some kind of spell- someone hunting them down? How could the wizards have survived unprotected?

"They are the dead which have been reanimated somehow. They show decreased intelligence and mobility usually." Hermione recites, the lapse into recalling something she's read calming her while she's speaking. Neville frowns worriedly, panic beginning to dawn in his eyes.

"So you mean you think the castle is full of the undead?" He asks. The girl nods, not seeming to hear the incredulity in Neville's voice.

"Yes. It is." She says shortly, "And I think I know where they are being converted." Hermione declares.


	31. Chapter 31

This is how Harry finds himself roaming outside the History teacher's classroom late at night.

One thing that hasn't wavered with the obsession is Hermione's likelihood to abide by rules. One thing which has been sharpened by her delusion is her grasp on how to use others to her advantage.

She knew that Harry had been somewhat bored for the whole of December and that he needs something extra to do so this side quest is the perfect way to get more information, help Harry be not bored and not _technically_ be breaking any rules herself.

Still not keen at being caught wandering around after curfew Harry shields himself with all the spells he can think of. There's no point being caught by Filch's cat if he doesn't have to be- he wondered if the cat was magic sometimes with how often it seemed to turn up when he was wandering.

To be fair he isn't moving so much tonight as spying- maybe that would make his luck improve.

Harry sits beside the door to Professor Tim's office, standing every few minutes to stretch his legs. It's beyond boring. He's already counted all the flagstones in the corridor, poked at half of the stones in the walls to see if any are secret passages (no such luck yet) and made stupid noises just to check his shields are still working.

It's eleven at night when his eyelids start to droop and he thinks about leaving more earnestly.

Auntie Rowena would possibly be vaguely concerned if he didn't turn up when expected and his bed is calling him- he can almost hear it whispering through the ancient walls of Hogwarts.

_Come to me Harry- come to me..._

He stands and stretches again, looking at his watch for the third time in the last forty seconds. The boy sighs, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Hermione didn't expect him to stay all night, did she?

_Come to me..._

The bed calls out.

Harry is just about to take the first step of walking away with nothing to report when there's a crack which splits the silence. The boy falls over and screams in shock, breathing heavily as a man in a turban straightens out his robes.

Apparently his charms are holding.

Quirrel knocks at the door to the History teacher's office, one hand on his wand.

Harry collects himself from the floor extremely glad that his spells worked as planned because a) it ensured he hasn't been caught snooping yet and b) his reaction is so embarrassing he would hate for _anyone_ to have seen it.

Tim opens the door and Harry notices that the Professor looks extremely healthy- oddly so for someone who he has never seen outside and never seen in the Great Hall.

"Tim." Says Quirrel, head held high. He doesn't stutter or slouch. Harry wonders if he's taking whatever the History teacher is too.

Tim seems confused.

"You are a teacher." He says briefly, staring at the other as if he had never seen his fellow staff member, "Why are you here? I teach students." The man states, eyes focused intently on the other man. Quirrel raises an eyebrow.

"I _am_ a Professor and I sincerely doubt your capabilities to be one right now. I do wonder why Dumbledore didn't hire me so long ago considering his choice of you however I suppose anyone is better than the ghost who used to run the show." The more cognitive Professor says, "Regardless I am here to warn you that if you do not desist in converting followers to your cause and release those who you have brainwashed I will invoke my powers as a Hogwarts Professor to have you thrown out of here. Rest assured I will show no mercy in using any means I can to rid myself of your destructive influence. I am a man of little patience and I will not deal with incompetency due to your failure when I take over Wizarding Britain."

Tim opens his mouth, stretches out his tongue much further than should actually be possible and- despite Quirrel shouting a particularly nasty looking spell right at the man- thing- knocks the Defence Professor to the floor.

The man gets up instantly, firing off a bright green curse which fizzles out on Tim's face. He pats it curiously and Quirrel pales significantly.

"Not again- not again! It can't be- it can't happen again!" He shouts before firing another green bolt. And another. And another. Each hits their target but has no effect other than confusion.

Harry watches, almost unsure about which man- and he was seriously doubting that Tim's a human- is more terrifying.

What even was he? He's never heard of any monster that can control minds and has the world's longest tongue.

Honestly he should be running now.

He should.

Why wasn't he already running?

The boy stares as the Defence Professor and the weird man who _cannot_ be human fight.

_Why_ isn't he running?

Professor Quirrel falls and his head makes an odd shrieking noise which Harry presumes he hallucinates as he runs as fast as he can back to the Gryffindor Common Room where Hermione is waiting for him semi-crazed.

"What happened? Am I right?" She asks quietly, shutting the book on her lap with a snap.

"Quirrel's dead- I think Tim might be Voldemort- he found out and now Quirrel's dead and I'msosorryI'llneverdisbelieveyouagainHermione!" The boy says between breaths, lungs stinging as his legs finally give out.

Hermione just nods more calmly than ever before. She stands from the plush red and gold couch, still in nightgown, wand already in hand.

She looks out of the window to where a storm is mysteriously brewing. Her eyes are sharp yet seem clouded over by past memories.

In the distance thunder goes off.

"Then tonight we lead the rebellion." She says solemnly.

Harry will never doubt Hermione ever again.

_Far from Hogwarts on a desolate stretch of shoreline also plagued by foul weather a man in a smart suit and black tie appears._

_He stares out at the raging waters which seem to climb into the sky only to fall back down as the pelting rain to drive into the soft earth of the clifftop he's standing on._

_Despite the weather he wears his sunglasses, purple eyes unseen behind them. Otherwise he is dressed rather well for the weather, his long trench-coat and fedora giving the idea of protection from the rain even though his power is enough to stop it from even dampening his clothes._

_As if he detects the soul of Tom Riddle being cast into the aether again he smirks._

_"I am Unknown to you Tom Riddle- Rapture Unknown- and I will end you." He declares to the wind._

_"So will we." Say the group behind him as one, aligning themselves with him._

_"Because even if I am Unidentified." The one with eyes the same colour as the sea when it's calm says._

_"Even if your methods are more Obscure than me." Follows the figure enshrouded by the sea mist._

_"And even if our efforts will remain Undisclosed." Says the woman, purple stilettos not making an indent even in the soft mud._

_"We will crush something as pathetic as you." They say together._

_Then they are in the cave beneath their feet and Rapture breaks through all the defences which had been protecting a tiny alcove right in the corner with a snap of his fingers._

_The lake heaves with pale, bloated bodies yet them seem to swarm away from the group._

_The trenchcoated man plucks a goblet with a badger on it from the hole and crushes it with his bare fists._

_"I bet you didn't think anyone would look for a Horcrux behind the first most obvious one Tom Riddle." He says to the screaming piece of soul as it is extinguished._

_The group disappear and moments later the whole cavern collapses with only the glint of a priceless relic, destroyed beyond recognition, buried in the remains of one of largest and most unpredictable landslides in Britain's history._


	32. Chapter 32

As it turns out Hermione had planned and planned well.

Obviously that evening was spent targeting key figures to help add to the likelihood of their survival. Unfortunately for them when reduced to the amount of people who would a) believe them after being woken up late at night/early in the morning and b) believe or even just help despite the only evidence being a panicked first-year who seemed to be speaking gibberish and his paranoid friend that number includes only Fred and George who don't believe it but don't mind seeing what great prank might have come from the crazed mind of a brilliant, overworked Muggleborn, the boy-who-lived-to-be-badass-and-possibly-madder-than-a-box-full-of-merpeople and the clumsiest boy in first-year. They have already offered their services in case the kids need their products to get out of trouble after something goes wrong and seem genuinely glad to be given the opportunity to raid the kitchens at one in the morning under the protection of the boy-who-lived.

They even invite Ron. He isn't keen on being woken up but is out of his bed at the thought of food and the threat of being left behind. Hermione is certain he didn't process anything about the zombies.

Harry leads the charge. Well, rather the sedate walk.

They freeze as they come across a stream of hufflepuff- all years together- streaming from the Great Hall in the vague direction of Tim's room.

"They shouldn't notice us." Harry says nervously as they tread past.

"Tim is great." Says one.

"Praise Tim." Declares another without looking at the one who spoke first.

If it weren't so terrifying in the darkness of the castle it might seem funny.

Only now do Fred and George pale slightly.

"Bloody hell, Fred!" Whispers George. Fred replies in kind and they keep staring at them, trundling past them obliviously.

"He must be calling them." Says Hermione, scribbling something in her notebook, "That means tomorrow will be carnage. We'll have to get as much food and drink as we can. We don't know how long we're going to be stuck in the common room and we don't know how these zombies work." She says calmly, hands shaking only slightly. The witch clenches her fists and breathes out, marching past Harry.

She looks back at the group of boys.

"Well- don't tell me you don't trust Harry's spellwork." The girl smiles thinly, wand held in a neutral position for now. Fred and George step forwards too and the group speed up, heading deeper through the crowd who don't notice them at all.

There's a smash from somewhere else and they hear Peeves cackle.

"Naughty Hufflepuffs out of bed- what's going on here?" From elsewhere comes the sound of Professor McGonagall in full Scottish rage.

"I'm glad that not me she's yelling at." Mutters Ron. Everyone laughs despite their situation.

"I think I'd quit being a zombie if she did." Says Neville, smiling.

Cheered slightly by the sounds of a threat being taken seriously even if misunderstood the adventurers continue on to the painting of the fruit bowl.

The kitchen is revealed to them and Fred and George usher the first-years inside, quietly whispering about House Elves to Harry and Hermione. If anyone is watching closely enough they would see the second fire of determination light in the witch's eyes.

Silently the House Elves watch as several of their number pull the sextet to a little table which the twins seem very comfortable at.

"Tonight I think we need something calming." George says, propping his feet on the table and stroking an imaginary beard. Fred mirrors him.

"Yes- maybe with a little extra-" Says Fred.

"You-know-what." Finished George, both of them eyeing the elf between them. It's great ears flop forwards as it nods.

"Flipsy will do her best but Dumblydores had been telling us elvsies that the boy twins are too young for drinkses." She chides. The boys both nods solemnly.

"But Flipsy-" Says one.

"-we're in a rather-" Continues the other.

"-unfortunate situation." The twins lower their legs to the floor, folding their arms over their knees.

"You see Hogwarts has been taken over-" Confesses George with a sigh.

"-and we need a bit of liquid courage." Sighs Fred.

"Just enough to help us prepare to take back the castle." Pleads George.

"For us." They finish. Flipsy looks panicked and theirs a whisper which spreads in ripples throughout the room.

"Hoggywarts is in danger?" Shouts one of the elves, dropping their rolling pin.

"Yes." Says Hermoine, standing from her chair, "There are a number of students who have been turned into zombies by Tim- he's the new teacher- and they're on the move. We are leading the rebellion against them to take back the school but we need help. We need a way to get supplies and spies to keep a watch on the enemy. Will you noble elves help us?" She finishes, now standing on the table.

The elves consider, talking amongst each other.

Slowly more and more trickle to the front. Almost all of them join but some of them don't seem to believe.

"If you studentses are telling the truths we will stand with you." Says an elf who seems somehow older than the rest, ears that little bit larger and skin just that much more wrinkly.

"We can gets foods and drinkses to everywhere in Hoggywarts. We can spy on wizardies and witchses without being seen if they aren't our masterses." The elf declares.

"But we needs proof." He says. The rest of the elves nod alongside him.

"For Hoggywarts." He states and the community echo him, possibly a hundred voices ringing out in alliance.

"For Hogwarts." Agrees Hermione, beginning the tricky business of clambering down from the table.


	33. Chapter 33

The week is long and trying, tensions running high in each common room as everyone grows restless.

Food and post are delivered straight to their dorm rooms, worried parents unable to reach their children flooding them with worry. The newspapers still don't believe them, spreading lies about madness and contaminated water.

Their professors manage to keep the peace relatively well, communicating with each other through glowing white animals which calm students as they pass.

Hufflepuff is the most depleted by far, most of the students turned into zombies. Professor Sprout has to resort to stunning the students who try to get back into their common rooms to get at remaining few.

They all tell the same story of a lack of response from Dumbledore who had disappeared before any of this had started.

The occasional student leaves the common rooms only to return a few hours hours later praising their History teacher and scrabbling at the entrance and requiring a stunning spell. That number dwindles as the days pass, first years crying and friends going pale whenever they hear the scratch of fingers against the wall, knowing that it might be their friend outside, witless and wilted.

Then- like magic- on the seventh evening of their apocalypse the Headmaster returns.

The castle itself reacts to his presence and he cuts harmless swathes through the zombified pupils who fall around him, collapsing against walls and their brethren gently, as if lifted by the wind.

Finally the man dressed in sweeping purple robes with a frilled yellow trim reaches his destination.

"Professor Tim." He says with a smile, knocking on the door to his classroom, "I would like a word with you." He calls out, stepping back from the door as he hears footsteps approach behind it.

The door opens and all the students in the room are blown over, toppling onto desks and into chairs as softly as the others had fallen.

In the middle of the students stands the confused professor.

"It's regarding your employment." Says Dumbledore calmly, stepping inside, "I'm afraid I'll have to be terminating it."

The strange man's face contorts in fury.

"You cannot defeat Tim." He roars, lashing out with his abnormally long tongue.

The Headmaster deflects it with a wordless, wandless charm and the tongue hits an invisible barrier, bouncing back at its owner and hitting him in the face.

"This will be effective immediately. I will ask you to return the students to their previous states and to leave the premises before I have to use force." The old man says, drawing his wand in warning, his half-moon glasses glinting in the light of the torches.

"Never." Shouts the professor, eyes narrowing, "Everybody will praise Tim!" He cries, attempting to attack again.

It is as futile as the last time.

Dumbledore sighs.

"Very well. I suppose we will have to hope that whatever you have done requires proximity or can be cured by St. Mungos." Says the Headmaster, raising his wand.

_Tim disappears in a flash of light, appearing again in the middle of a desert. He looks around in confusion, black robes already heating in the sun._

_"Where is Tim? Tim was in the castle." He says confusedly._

As soon as the History Professor disappears the students begin to wake, many crying in fear of their last memories, more crying in happiness at being able to think again (the ravenclaws mainly).

Dinner that evening is a celebration, all students cheering and laughing at their tables. Even Draco manages a smile which makes his classmates look at him proudly, patting him on the back and going back to their food without a fuss.

The teachers meanwhile look at the Headmaster stony faced as he mixes up a strange concoction in his goblet.

"Where were you?" Asks McGonagall, lips pursed, "This whole week we have been going out of our minds trying to look after half a school of hysterical teenagers." She says. Dumbledore is about to answer when Snape opens his mouth.

" _I_ too would like to know what you were thinking by not replying to our Patronuses." He says, voice cold.

The mad-man's drink fizzes, the smell of artificial lemons wafting from it.

"I took a holiday." The Headmaster says, sipping the bright yellow concoction without a care in the world.

"You _what_?" Asks every teacher in unison except for Trelawney (who is staring dazedly at the charmed ceiling) and Hagrid (who is just glad that Dumbledore is back and there aren't any zombie students scaring off the wildlife of the Forbidden Forest anymore).

"Holiday." Replies Dumbledore smiling, "This year has been quite stressful so I went to France." There's silence as the teachers (except for aforementioned exceptions) stare at him. He takes their shocked silence as a cue to continue.

"It was very nice- a bit warm for my liking but everyone must try new things and it's nothing a cooling charm can't sort. I even got new robes. Speaking of new things; you should try this drink- I learned how to make it from a bartender in Brittany. It's very quiet there but there are a few geniuses living in comparative isolation. Anyway- it tastes of lemon sherbets." He finishes, taking another sip.

"But our messages-" Begins the Potions teacher, angry.

"Oh I presumed that for you and Minerva to be agreeing it meant that the whole faculty was playing an admittedly brilliant joke on me." He says, "Did I mention that this drink is fairly alcoholic?" He asks curiously.

Said drink fizzes and the glares not fixed on the Headmaster fall upon his fizzing goblet.

"In fact I think it's illegal in several countries." He says, raising the drink to his lips again.


	34. Chapter 34

Meanwhile the Room of Requirement creaks its door open without anyone walking by it.

Seconds later a tall man appears, dressed in the same spotless suit he wore on a muddy clifftop miles and miles away before it collapsed. Behind him stand a bored looking woman, standing easily on towering purple heels, a man who somehow blends into the wall and a man whose eyes look like the rolling sea.

"This is the last one. Isn't it?" Asks the woman, brushing a tendril of her short hair behind her ear.

The man in front of them smirks.

"Yes. It is."

He clicks his fingers and the room is filled with roaring purple flames.

Voldemort's final piece of soul disintegrates with a shrill scream.

"Now there's only one thing left to wrap up." Says the man with death's own cape around his shoulders, lifting his hand again.

He clicks and thousands of miles away a strange looking man wandering the desert implodes without warning.

* * *

Harry's year is simple after that. Exams are cancelled except OWLs and NEWTs for the students capable of taking them with many dropping back a year just to complete the year.

He never fights Quirrel in a forbidden chamber.

In fact he never fights Voldemort at all which relieves everyone who has heard Trelawney's prophesy- not that the boy knows this.

Harry makes friends and goes on dates and learns more and more magic- surpassing even the Headmaster himself by the time he finishes. The old man looks at him proudly, smiling as he gives him his papers.

He shakes the young man's hand, hand feeling fragile in Harry's grasp.

"You are always welcome to return you know. Hogwarts' doors will always be open to those who have left." He says, eyes twinkling behind his glasses.

Harry sees the magic practically crawling across the castle's ancient stones. He nods and grins.

"Yeah. I'd like that." He says, turning back to his girlfriend who smiles back at him, hair glowing red in the sun.

"You better visit." She says, kissing his cheek.

Dumbledore chuckles and leaves them be as they slip their hands through each other.

"One more year and you can join me in America." Harry says, squeezing her hand.

"You can finally meet my first mentor." He says, thinking of the other red-haired witch sitting at his family's table when he had went home at Christmas.

She had been smiling- it was the second Christmas she'd visited, the third year after she'd told him everything and confessed all that she had done. Apparently she'd went straight to his uncles' place with beer afterwards, revealing that she had known Harry and offering a permanent olive branch in return for them not looping her into anything too dangerous and not trying to kill her.

They said she hadn't asked for forgiveness and they hadn't offered it but their reception of each is neutral with her first Christmas visit and almost friendly with the second after they all had become very drunk courtesy of Sirius and his Firewhisky.

So as he kisses the woman he loves he smiles.

"One more year." She promises, giggling.

"Mum's going to freak when she finds out." Ginny says, running her thumb over the dainty ring on her finger. Harry laughs too.

"Yeah." He admits.

"Almost as much as with Ron." She says and Harry turns, glancing at the two couples behind them in bemusement.

"Yeah- who would have thought that he would end up with Hermione? They hardly talked to each other in first year." He says aloud.

"Must be the Weasley charm." Jokes Ginny.

"Must be." Replies Harry easily, grinning.

"Oi- you going to stop being cute with Ron's sister and help us with the Firewhisky?" Shouts Neville, holding up the case. Ron blushes, still not sure where he should stand with his classmate dating his sister. Luna brings Neville's arms down, smiling vaguely.

"You made the Flibbering Ditzies fly away." She says softly, taking his hand. She looks around dazedly, "Oh- they're over here now." She says as Neville rests a hand on her knee.

Harry and Ginny join the small group, collecting on a picnic mat. All over the grounds there are clumps of people sitting around similarly, enjoying the weather and their last few days.

"You know- I can't help but feel that our lives could have been so much more difficult than this." Harry says, sitting down beside Luna, his girlfriend taking a seat beside her brother.

"Well." Says Hermione, eyes hawk-sharp, "Considering that you faced a supposedly immortal dark lord as a baby and he didn't come back to try and kill you for good and take over Wizarding Britain I would say that you in particular have had an extremely fortunate life so far." She looks at where Harry and Ginny's hands are joined and smiles wryly.

"I don't know how long you'll survive Weasley Wedding boot-camp if you stay in England though." The girl says. Ron looks at their hands and then back up at Harry's face.

"What?!"


	35. Final Author Notes

What?!

I know that is probably the reaction of most of you reading this to this ending but hey- don't like it, write your own. It's why I started writing fanfiction in the first place and it isn't an awful reason for your first (although I soon fell in love with writing for the sake of it).

I hope you've enjoyed this strange tale of weirdness and goodbye (unless you read anything else I've written or are going to after this- in which case- welcome to my absurd world) I hope you've had a good laugh and have a good life.

With love,

The girl who is thankful this journey is finally over because she ran out of ideas after about the first three chapters.


End file.
